A day of discoveries

Sigh, happy happy happy am I. 

I see a theme here

What can I say?

Everything predicates itself on you and me. 

Long time no anything.

It's been far too long since I have posted here. But with no laptop and practically no access to internet neither am I being exposed to much new music (or anything new, really) nor am I very inspired to write. Even my poems are coming from a drying well. Sigh. Inevitable I guess.

But oh, I heard this today and I am more than a little in love with it. I feel like lying on my bed and stretching endlessly to it. Yep. Just stretching.



Enjoy! Hopefully I'll be back in full form soon. 

League of Extraordinary Dancers on So You Think You Can Dance

Okay how amazing are these dancers? It isn't possible for me to love this show more.



As soon as I am more free and settled I am going to be catching the web series. You should too. 

Kinship, writing and Marissa Nadler

Have you ever come across an artist with whom you felt an instant connection? This connection is different from others, it's not merely that the artist speak of things you know well and intimately, nor is it mere admiration for how like you they seem, it certainty isn't the kind of connection that grows with each listen so you feel by imbibing the artists in your life you are growing a little. No it's the kind of connection you recognise instantly-you feel it in your bones with the first strains of music and when he/she begins to sing and you're even willing to entertain the slightly foolish notion that you're siblings of the same order-kindred spirits if you will be.

It's rare this kind of connection because we love so many artists for the diversity that they bring to our lives, for the way they train our ears to their sound and their message, for opening us to new ways of seeing and I'm sure many many more reasons. But this kind of connection is unique because it seems to take you back to somewhere ancient, some place no I don't want to use the word primal, even before that- a beginning of sorts. Your beginning. I haven't felt this way about too many artists and it's a good thing because over the past few days I have become obsessed with Marissa Nadler.

The moment I first heard the opening strains of Thinking of You  I immediately had that swooping sensation in my stomach a little like when you first realise you're in love but instead of throwing you off balance like love does, this feeling centers you. I guess it's what meditation should do. And then when I hear her cover of Famous Blue Raincoat (a song that holds so many memories for me that I would call it my favourite Cohen song if not for Chelsea Hotel No. 2)  I was lost. I am not someone who grudges covers but I am wary when it's a song I am already deeply attached to. Her version manages to break through that barrier. It is just as painful as Cohen's but adds a layer to it, turns the mystery of that song in a different direction and it becomes every bit her song.

I love that she is so gracefully dark. Why gracefully? I guess it's because it goes back to something I said to someone a long time back, that darkness can be very very beautiful that there's much to learn from it if we allow ourselves to. I was sick of the whole enlightenment spiel (at the time) a friend was giving me and I can remember how we coined the word 'endarkenment' as an anti thesis to it.  For as long as I can remember I've been preoccupied with pain.  I've had clashes with so many people about this though that I just shut up about it now. It's why poetry works so well for me and much of Marissa's writing reminds me of things I know, wonder about, some times don't have courage to write about.

I wrote a poem (Have you seen my sadness?) under her influence the other day and it's one I am happy with even though I know it needs more work. I took time with it, her music playing all the while in the background and it was just an amazing experience writing it. I love when that happens, when the writing is enough.

Read more about her at Pitchfork they have some great reviews of her albums. My favourite so far is Songs III Bird on the Water.

Farewell Amy

Last month I had started writing a post on female British musicians I loved because suddenly I realised they were all I was listening to. Anyway, the list included Adele (whose album I was sinking my teeth into at the time), Laura Marling, Lissie and of course Amy Winehouse. I had planned it all out. I knew I'd begin with Adele and end with Amy (both of them were my favourites). I had managed to write a little about the others but when I came to Amy I was at a loss for words. How to write about someone who speaks for herself especially in such a ballsy no holds barred kind of way. And how to address that power in her music without falling back on 'raw' 'gritty'  as descriptors. I felt ineffective writing about her then and now with her death I feel even more incapable of providing her with a fitting tribute. I can only be emotional and over the place at this point.

I was at a relative's place on July 23rd. My uncle was watching the England-India test match at Lords and as he was flipping through channels a headline leaped out at me "Amy Winehouse Found Dead" I immediately felt this chill go through me (and I also yelled "What??) and tears welled up in shock- it was like hearing about someone I knew and loved. 

Ever since that day, messages have been pouring in from all over, twitter exploded with  messages of condolence, mourning and shock. Other comments have been so derogatory and demeaning I wanted to hurl something. Even worse are the many people who seem to have a reaction of complacence-'she was doomed to die early,' 'are we really surprised' was one of the questions(well yes, death is always surprising); that she doesn't deserve mourning for all her "bad behaviour"(this was the worst) 

I was upset  but all this is part of the wide scope that a tragedy like this represents. It also speaks to what she represented for so many people. Brilliant. Troubled. One of a kind. (and tragically) Junkie. Her personal life was often fodder for mockery, tabloids were rife with stories about her and the British tabloids were particularly ruthless (so happy they are getting their comeuppance now) and now in her passing they mourn her. They call her a gifted musician whose personal demons overcame her as if they had no part to play in her issues. 

We seem to assume that with social networking on the rise and the invasive nature of tabloid journalism the element of mystery in our stars have gone. That we can know them. They are like us but we get to laugh and jeer at them for being just like us. This is only alienating. We don't know these people. And with someone like Amy it has only contributed to her downfall. We never understood her demons because we didn't want to. We wanted her to either be a figure of mockery- a symbol for all that can go wrong with a person, to use her as a cautionary tale for others and lament about the pitfalls of the business. As every detail of her life played out in front of us we got to pass on judgement on her without really knowing her. We got to pretend we knew her. 

Now she is gone and we never will. For Amy was in her music. Damaged, in pain, uncompromising and proudly so, she is now lost to us. Music has lost her.

There are better obituaries, better tributes out there but as I am winding this down I realise that this was never meant to be one. Like I had told a friend when I heard the news, I am shaken and angry. I am incapable of reflecting on her death, the shameless condemnation of her disease, her music- on what it all meant.

For now, I will simply defer to her music and let Amy speak for herself.

R.I.P Amy Jade Winehouse

   

Update: Lissie is apparently American. Sorry for the mix up.

On (possibly) leaving

I will be leaving Bangalore soon. And I'm not sure how to feel about it. As soon as I stepped into this city I hated it. It didn't help that I was going through a particularly bad phase at the time. So when I saw the dirty streets, the pot holes everywhere, the terrible traffic it was all too easy to project my terrible state onto the city. I painted the city in the most dreadful colours and my family still teases me about my habit of throwing my hands up in the air screaming"I hate this city" everytime the power in the city failed us (which was very often).

Now, as I am applying to study in Delhi (yes back there again) and mind you, the chances of me getting through the exam and into the course are not very high-even so, I'm feeling strange about leaving Bangalore. I still don't love this city. I hate the million malls that have erupted like mushrooms all over the city. I hate the fact that I had to walk past a ditch entertaining pigs, garbage, shit and god knows how many diseases, everyday on my way to the bus stop. I hate the fact that you go to a restaurant and spend oodles of money on food that isn't even that good.

I hate that I hate it.

I realise these things could apply to any city in India. But they do bother me more in Bangalore. My memory (from childhood) courts a different Bangalore, one with flowers blooming in trees, the wind sharp against your face and this lush greenness everywhere you looked. It was a limited view(I used to come on vacation) I know and a highly romanticised one. Who knows if the Bangalore that I thought I saw then was really there? But I thought it was real and that's what counts I guess. In a similar way I know a lot of people living here cannot picture themselves living anywhere else so maybe they are seeing a different city. A city that invokes strong ties despite the things I mentioned above. Things to complain about but with affection. I know what it's like to love a city like that.

Now, with the possibility of leaving looming large before me I have to consider that while this city holds no precious memories for me there's been a lot of inspiration here. There's been a lot of poetry written here and for that I can only be grateful. I think it takes a while to understand what a place does to you-that you have to leave it to know the things that have settled in your bones and skin. Right now, this indefinable feeling of loss and also relief makes me think it is like saying goodbye to a dysfunctional relationship.

You're glad it happened but also grateful that it's over.

Falling

"Heard about the guy who fell off a skyscraper? On his way down past each floor, he kept saying to reassure himself: So far so good... so far so good... so far so good. How you fall doesn't matter. It's how you land."
                         - La Haine


But this ocean must have a floor right?

Blue

Sometimes a day is just drenched in blue.

And then there's this:



The dancer's name is Melanie Moore. The music is from the movie New Moon from the Twilight Saga. I haven't watched the film but this has to be all that's good about it. I first saw Melanie is her audition for SYTYCD Season 8. Her audition is a shorter version of this and I watched it 10 times non stop. So obviously I had to see if there were more videos of her and then I found this one.

I love her bird like movements. I love how she's not too pretty is her poses. And like one of the commenters have said she dances with her entire body. Each movement is finished.

My blues have no place here. Awe can do that to you.

When did things start to suck so much?

I'll say it once I'll say it twice: Facebook sucks. And yet I remain on the idiotic site as if I were to leave I would lose all my friends and any semblance of a connection with the world. I hate that it makes people seem so accessible. I hate that you can't get over anything because there are constant reminders in the form of pictures or events or idiotic wallposts when all you want to do is forget. Instead there is the replay of every single ugly conversation and/or encounter and the constant reminder that your life is not what it once used to be.

And then here's an excellent article pointing out the function of facebook.

I realise what I've said above seems to be missing the point but while I fully agree with the whole facebook-is-a-business-and-it's-your-responsibility-what-you-do-with-the-tool, I really do hate what it's done to relationships. 

The Antlers: Burst Apart

The Antlers are back! Though I'd read about their new album a couple of days back I did not immediately run to youtube to begin listening to the album. Why, you ask. So many reasons:

1. Hospice while brilliant and heartbreaking is not an easy listen. It promises to bring you down and as each song builds on the previous, that promise is one you begin to wish they'd break.
2. I have been going through a dance-y pop-y phase where I do nothing but listen to Madonna's Holiday and bop about the room pretending I have a high ponytail. No, really. I love the song in a completely non ironic way.
3. I am way too depressed. I think this should count twice. Or thrice.

But then today I decided enough was enough, let's not delay the inevitable any longer. And if you're depressed only half way then it's time to go all the way right? And who else to bring you (further) down but these guys? But then as I am listening to Burst Apart something's different. Not off, but different. It's all still very haunting. There's layer over layer over layer of sound. There's some heartbreak but it feels a little like crawling through a tunnel and beginning to love the darkness a little. No I'm not losing my mind. There's something about standing in the middle of where you are, whatever it is you're feeling, standing where it is concentrated and to speak. And so then what you speak is undeniable. While with Hospice I felt like I was sinking into some kind of never ending abyss, Burst Apart feels like the center of an explosion. And I didn't think it was possible, but I'm loving it more.



My ineffective analogy is helped by their album cover which is a beautiful explosion of golden dust? Paint? Light?

A random long time no see post. And some music.

Intrigue shm-intrigue.

What? I can make up words. Anyway this song arrived in my inbox the other day and it's this interesting mix of sounds. Not in an unpleasant way though. God I'm unable to write anything smart about it. Just go listen to it.



On the other hand, Thao and Mirah's collaboration is too much sound for me. Don't get me wrong. I love Thao. I find her so... funky. Haha. I'm always bobbing my head and hopping around the room when I listen to her. And Mirah's pretty cool. I love "Don't Die in Me" And let's not forget this. But their latest venture together is an unfortunate mess in my head. I'm trying to acquire a taste for it. I know it's possible but I just don't have it in me. I don't usually post songs I don't like or feel 'meh' about but I'm still reserving judgement on this one. And some of my favourite-st songs are the ones that grew on me, that I took time to get to know.



And then the best news in years. New Bon Iver album. New song:



I can't be objective about this so not offering my usually, highly valid and credible critique. 

Playlist X

1. Your Song (covering Elton John)- Ellie Goulding
2. Celeste- Asobi Seksu
3. Rewind- Goldspot
4. Never Going Back Again- Fleetwood Mac
5. When We Swam- Thao with the Get Down Stay Down
6. Next Time Around- Little Joy
7. Thursday- Asobi Seksu
8. Welcome Home- Radical Face

Lovely. Creepy. Wood-sy. Video

SYTYCD Favourites

There's art and then there's Wade Robson.

SYTYCD Favourites

Granted this is from So You Think You Can Dance Canada but I still think it counts.

Mia Michaels irritated me so much in her judging stint(on the american show) that it began to affect the way I felt about the pieces she choreographed. I remember being not so impressed by the piece she did with Billy, Alex and Ade on 'time' in the first episode of the season. And the season hadn't even started yet. But then SYTYCD Canada happened just after and she was back to doing just what she does best- choreographing. This is beyond doubt one my favouritest group numbers. Every single dancer was brilliant. I don't I'll crowd this post with too many words.

Playlist IX

1. Service Bell- Grizzly Bear & Feist

2. Strawberry Letter 23- Shuggie Otis

3. A Waltz For A Night- Julie Delpy

4. Rolling In the Deep- Adele

5. Dead Leaves and The Dirty Ground- The White Stripes

6. This Is a Film- Iggy Pop

7. Fools in Love-Inara George

8. Guyamas Sonora- Beirut

Latest addiction:

Shuggie Addict

Have I mentioned just how much I love this song?



Thank you Skins! I seem to be thinking and saying that a lot these days.

Blogging personas

In straddling two blogs I have come to own two very different sets of identities. Tiny Dancer did come first and in the beginning one blog was enough trouble. I didn't have too many people reading my blog save for one loyal follower whom I ended up writing to, for the most part. Over time, the blog has become less of a response to this person ( I have also since, lost this loyal follower. Tragedy=Life) and more of a general response to everything(yes I know that's vague). Which ended up affecting the kind of poems I wrote.

As time went by though, I had things to say that weren't poem-y. I wanted to talk about music and movies and while I am insecure enough about my poems god I am so much more frightened about sharing my views on... anything. Especially music, movies and the like. It's asking for trouble you know? But like I have mentioned before, I am a super sized geek. Seriously, the biggest you could find. That blimp you see floating by your window? Me. So as I immersed myself more in the TV, music and movie critiques (of more articulate others) I slowly convinced myself that if I couldn't be articulate I could at least mimic it(It's possible.You can do it too!). There aren't too many people who read this blog. In fact it feels so comfortably tucked away I can be as mis informed, off the mark in my choices, my taste and critiques as I want. (See that huge dark shadow looming before you? Say hello to my inferiority complex. Say it!)

And so this blog emerged out of a big fat inferiority complex, a need to hide from regular followers and wanting to put stuff out there with out any backlash, thank you very much! What? Don't judge me. People have kids for far more spurious reasons.

Grouper

Today was a crappy day. Not because anything spectacularly bad happened. But nothing went particularly well. And since I end up feeling either stuck or moving too quickly for my liking these days, I would love to pause for a moment and enjoy the stillness. I want to live inside this song. I want to fall asleep in it and wake up with it so I am dreaming when I wake, so I never have to worry about anything ever again-anything but the music stopping, that is.

How have I not heard this artist before?

Playlist VIII

Melancholia overstays its welcome.

1. Be Here Now- Ray La Montagne
2. Riverman- Nick Drake
3. My Body is a Cage(covering Arcade Fire)- Peter Gabriel
4. Made- Greg Weeks
5. Stranger song- Leonard Cohen
6. Spell- Nick Cave & the Bad  Seeds
7. Playground Love- AIR
8. Flume- Bon Iver
9. Too Much- Sufjan Stevens
10.Sweet Dreams- Emily Browning (Sucker Punch Soundtrack)




This just messes with my head. Have you seen Emily Browning? She is tiny. And really non-threatening. I saw her in the terrible, terrible remake of "A Tale of Two Sisters" and I just hated her. This cover really helps me change my mind if not about her acting prowesses but her general appeal. The cover is dark, heavy and just the right amount of seductive. I want to see Sucker Punch just for this. (The rest of the soundtrack is just as amazing)Which I've heard is the only reason you might enjoy the movie. 

Weekend happiness

Playlist VII

My Skins playlist

1. And The Living Is Easy- Guts

2. Aht  Uh Mi Head- Shuggie Oats
3. Hope In the Air- Laura Marling
4. Fear and Resilience (Dangerous Mouse mix)-Pedro
5. Lady Belles-Timothy Victor

6. Shove it- Santogold
7. They Stay Down Deep-Giselle
8. Childhood-Beach House
9. Dragonfly- M. Craft
10. Glockenspiel song- Dog is Dead

11. Undertaker- The Moondoggies
12. Lions- Jonquil
13. We Can't Fly- Aeroplanes
14. Waiting for My chance to Come- Noah and The Whale
15. Good Times Gonna Come- Aqualung

R. I. P. Elizabeth Taylor

I wasn't a fan until I saw this movie:



A scene from "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"

I'll set you free

When They Say It Better Than We Do

Day 2


"I'm into people" - Franky Fitzgerald (Skins Series 5) On asked if she was a lesbian/bi sexual.

Franky Fitzgerald as played by Dakota Blue Richards

Everyday we stumble under the weight of labels. I don't want to deny their comforting and reassuring power but god I do congratulate and celebrate the all encompassing ones that Franky Fitzgerald (so brave) subscribes to. Skins does get a lot of things wrong (I refuse to acknowledge the Season 4 ending) but they got this so right that it makes up for a somewhat wishy washy season. Almost.

Playlist VI

Serpent Charmer- Iron & Wine
Civilian- Wye Oak
House By The Sea- Iron & Wine
We Can't Fly- Aeroplanes
In The Backseat- Arcade Fire
Fairytales &Firesides-Passenger
Peace Beneath the City- Iron & Wine
Undertaker-The Moondoggies
Fall Into Faith- Oliver Girdler
Lover of Mine- Beach House
Close Your Eyes- Micah P. Hinson

When they Say It Better Than We Do

Day 1

Sometimes there's so much crap on TV (which I watch anyway) that as I watch I can feel my brain getting smaller and smaller and smaller. Then there are these brief moments that a show will offer you that you relate to and it's so heartwarming to see your story somewhere (even if for a brief moment)that you forgive yourself for the all time you've wasted on all the crap, because you just found a big shiny jewel resting amongst it all. So I'm going to start a new list. (I know old lists are stagnating but don't worry they'll come back! I am if nothing foolishly optimistic about my own enthusiasm) So, in today's list of ' when they say it better than we do':


1. "You're the poem Liz" ( Jeff Parker to Liz Parker)


This line just blew me away. And see, it's not so much because of the characters or what's happening in their story. This moved me beyond its context. Liz doesn't even really respond when her father tells her this. She just sort of sits there and helps him organise his papers (or whatever he was doing). If it had been me, if I'd heard something like that from someone it would have just broken my heart and then healed it. There's just something so lovely in that line. I write a lot of poetry. But I always feel like all these are mere attempts at writing that one great poem. I want to be able to say that to someone. To say to, anyone really, a child, a lover, a friend, to say that you are not the inspiration but art itself, is just lovely.

Shiri Appleby

Every tongue that gets bit always has another word to say

Iron & Wine

Oh Glee!

Oh Glee! You are so so inconsistent. And yet oh so heartbreaking that I can forgive you for all the times I have pulled strands of my hair out because of you.

I watch a lot of TV and then I read a LOT about what I watch. I'm a geek like that. But anyway, I don't usually write about what I watch. I write a lot about the kind of music I like but somehow writing about the TV shows and movies I watch just hasn't happened.

Today however, as I watched the latest episode of Glee something about it just made me feel like writing. It was such a wildly inconsistent episode-with some things making sense and others just.. not. But it got me thinking further into why I watch it at all. A show like Glee can be so frustrating at times: It's a show with a popular format, it's got the ratings in its favour and it's also trying valiantly to do something new and fresh. It takes many many risks. But when it fails to do consistent story telling and bends to gimmicky plot contrivances I feel like hurling something at the screen. I really do.Because a show like Glee seems premised on a certain level of honesty or transparency with its audience so when it blatantly fails on its promise it's doubly disappointing. So at times like these I really do question why I bother with a show that isn't consistently satisfying.

Tonight I got  a little glimpse into one of the reasons why I watch this show when in last night's episode "Sexy" I watched Santana confess her love for Brittany. Did I think it was rushed? Yes. While I was watching Brittany talk about going and talking to someone about her and Santana wasn't I confused about how it didn't make sense that we did not know that Santana and Brittany have been hooking up all this time? And how Santana hasn't showed the slightest amount of jealousy or hurt (over Brittany and Artie) apart from that one time in the lovely Duets? Yes yes yes to overall confusion. But I think what helps me, what makes me rush home and download an episode of Glee is its ability to move me even while all these doubts are swirling around in my head. I cried, cried while watching Santana, Brittany and Gwyneth, sorry Holly ( Didn't even notice she was there. Should have just allowed Santana to sing it. ) sing Landslide. Not only is it one of my favouritest Stevie Nick's songs ever, but Naya Rivera just killed it. Not the song- but the confusion, the heartbreaking confusion and the realisation that arrives on her face as she sang the song. That moment when you realise that you love someone and you're overwhelmed by what it does to you. She just killed it. I always thought she did bitchy really well and it's so much fun to watch her do that but it's so good to see her be capable of so much more.

Naya Rivera

I wish there had been more of a build up. I do. But Glee has this ability to make you believe and be affected by the little pockets-these little moments(like the amazingly realistic conversation between Kurt and his Dad) it captures where it portrays very emotionally real situations. And I think just for that I will continue to watch this show. Oh and is it just me but are there more and more shows getting into that wonderful world of sexual fluidity and queerness? Or are these just the shows that I am watching?

Ezra Pound

Portrait D'Une Femme

Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea,
London has swept about you this score years
And bright ships left you this or that in fee:
Ideas, old gossip, oddments of all things,
Strange spars of knowledge and dimmed wares of price.


Great minds have sought you—lacking someone else.
You have been second always. Tragical?
No. You preferred it to the usual thing:
One dull man, dulling and uxorious,
One average mind—with one thought less, each year.


Oh, you are patient, I have seen you sit
Hours, where something might have floated up.
And now you pay one. Yes, you richly pay.
You are a person of some interest, one comes to you
And takes strange gain away:


Trophies fished up; some curious suggestion:
Fact that leads nowhere; and a tale or two,
Pregnant with mandrakes, or with something else
That might prove useful and yet never proves,
That never fits a corner or shows use,


Or finds its hour upon the loom of days:
The tarnished, gaudy, wonderful old work;
Idols and ambergris and rare inlays,
These are your riches, your great store; and yet
For all this sea-hoard of deciduous things,


Strange woods half sodden, and new brighter stuff:
In the slow float of differing light and deep,
No! there is nothing! In the whole and all,
Nothing that's quite your own.
                     Yet this is you.

Courtesy another 'S'.

Maggie May

Everyone has a Maggie May.

A friend

Some times hearts surprise you with the number of times they can break. Even so, it does get easier after a point to go through it even though a broken heart becomes the only way you can feel whole again. Then some songs come along and just help you slide into it. So you find it easier to sleep with the heart under your pillow, find it outside your window, eat with it as it cracks apart a little more. There are some songs that allow you to be a friend to that heart.

On my mind

Flailing attempts at prose

I invest more in the smaller plans. The big ones, almost never work out. I think I tend to believe that there is some grand plan for each of us and it’s the tiny ones that we are allowed to tinker with. Sometimes I would get glimpses into this big plan at my old house. I would go to the terrace nearly every day in the evening to sit in the sunset. As far as terraces go, it wasn't spectacular. My house was by no means the tallest building. And the time had passed when you could see the sea from the terrace. New buildings had come up by the time I started frequenting the terrace. To my right was one of those big towers? Electric ones? I’m not sure. It was constructed on another tall building. I would always look at that the peak of that tower and wish I could be up there, closer to the sky.  Often, there would be a lone crow sitting up there watching everything else. It looked incredibly lonely to me. But I always sought that even as a child. It was still unsettling. Like the skeleton of something abandoned. Or rather the skeleton of something that would grow only that far. No flesh for this building. So I had this skeletal tower to my right.

In front of me was a big coconut tree-the branches draped themselves over the wall under which I would sometimes hide when I was a child.  When I grew older, that side of the terrace always frightened me. When the sun set and everything was thrown into shadow, that part looked especially dark and impenetrable to me. And yet I always felt like I was being watched from something in there. I always had the sense of something small, female and abandoned sitting there watching me. Sometimes I would leave the terrace, too frightened to stay when it got dark. Later, I decided that I wouldn’t be chased off my own terrace and learned to stay there and face my fears. I remember I would talk loudly to myself telling whomever I thought (of felt) was there that I wasn’t there to hurt them and maybe we could co exist happily. Soon I stopped being frightened and would stay for hours not leaving till I was called for dinner. I think something still waits for me there. That patch of sky above that terrace is mine. My big plan has been written there and its waiting for me to read it.

Playlist V

So happy that they won at the Grammy's!! Though when you think about how irrelevant the Grammy's have become it really shouldn't make a difference. Still, it's quite an acheivment considering that they beat out Katy Perry and some band called Lady Antebellum (ya that's the name). I'm not kidding though, when I say it's an acheivment. After all, when has indie music ever been able to combat the all pervasive (read invasive) nature of pop music? Not that I have anything against pop music. But are you really going to remember Katy Perry for her music ten years down the line? I'm probably going to remember her for having a Hindu (bet they pronounced it hind-ooo) wedding in India for no apparent reason other than you know, India is like, so spirtual! I'm not even going to address the presence of Lady Antebellum- I'm unable to process anything past their ridiculous name.



The quality is weird but I love this song. And Skins! The series showcases some great music.



LOVE his voice.

Passenger

I have definitely featured this artist here before. But I failed to mention how he has completely taken over my life. I first heard Passenger in S's house. It was early last year when I was dabbling in a little unemployment here, a little broke-ness there (you know, just because I like to). I had run away to Madras for 3 weeks in the hopes that someone there would give me a job. Anyway, so on what was the last day (I didn't find a job) we were sitting on the floor of her living room after dinner with at least three laptops open and my ipod all good and ready to steal her music from her when she was like  " Oh my god, Kow! (I don't understand why my friends spell it like that. I guess it's because I'm not a real cow? I can hope.) I have to make you listen to this guy!" I was all like "Yeah yeah in a minute, let me finish taking AIR (J'adore! See what I did?? No..? No?) from you." Anyway, she chuckled, cursed me ( because occasionally we pretend that we're bad ass gangsters who curse as we breathe) and went on with whatever she was doing. Anyway, so I opened itunes and played "The Last Unicorn" and then oh my god Mike Rosenberg's voice filled the room and in an instant I was hooked. Anyway, after that I have listened to the album Wide Eyes Blind Love so many times that on Lastfm I think that I have the highest number of plays for Passenger. Quite an accomplishment.

Anyway, I wish I could convey how much I love this guy. I know there's a band in there but for me it's just him. I often try (and fail) to write about music on this blog. It's just too damn hard. I'd consider it a fine achievement if I could but as I work on that skill why don't you read his interview here (he's also really funny in a way that only Brit's can be) and then go look for his album Wide Eyes Blind Love?

Repeat to self

"The only way out of a feeling is to go through it." -S

This isn't her quote. But it's so much more meaningful to me because it came through her. 

SYTYCD Favourites

Season 7 was a bit of roller coaster. Dancers getting injured, some not so great judging (Mia please go back to choreographing. It was greatly missed, your judging on the other hand will not have the same fate. I still  love you.) and then the controversial decision to take only 10 dancers and pair them up with SYTYCD alumni (given the moniker "the all-stars" umm what??). I recently heard that they will be going back to the old format for Season 8 as the new one didn't bode too well with audiences. I can understand why people had so many problems with the new format though. It's lovely to see the dancers grow on the show and grow with each other. With the new format they were thrown into performing at a level(because they were paired with the much more experienced all stars) that they might not have been prepared for and hence all the injuries. However, this also meant a high caliber of dancing early on and unlike other seasons it has been difficult to choose a favourite because they were all so damn good. The one I have picked for today was an instant favourite of mine.

Ashley moves like water in this piece. And her hair! Oh my gosh her hair was just beautiful. I was really sad to see her go because of an injury. And I am confused. Why was Alex Wong asked to return for the next season and not Ashley? They both had serious injuries right? Hmm.

Anyway, this dance is stunning. And I don't know how Ade does it. He manages to make it look like Ashley is this thistle blowing in the wind. I love everything about this dance. The dancers, the music (Florence + the Machine yay!), the concept, everything. And like Cat said , the moment they almost kiss but then don't is so beautiful. So poignant.

Unfortunately, Youtube is spoiling my fun by refusing to let me embed the video. So go here.

SYTYCD Favourites

So anyone who knows me knows that I am fascinated to the point of obsessed with So You Think You Can Dance. I love the dancers, the music, even the cheesy reality show format, the judges (Reality show judges usually suck but Nigel Lythgoe and his team are surprisingly good. Well at least up until season 5), the amazing choreographers (Mia Michaels anyone?) and how the show has changed the way I see movement and how it has convinced me that it is possible to embody poetry. So I am going to choose (for no apparent reason but for the I-like-making-lists-thingy) my favourite routines over the 7 years of So You Think You Can Dance. To start off:



The first time I watched this I kind of fell in love with Katee. My sister thinks I am obsessed with her. I think I am (a little) but I don't think any other dancer has moved me as much as Katee Shean. She is so clean and it's as if the air around her, that negative space dances with her so when she moves it's as if  it is in tandem with everything and not in opposition. The judges kept saying she was born to dance. Truer words have never been spoken( I can't believe I said something so cheesy.). 

Northern Soul

I desperately want to learn how to dance northern soul. And the music! So much fun!

Obsessed

Obsession can be good. Very good.

1. Arcade Fire-Neighborhood #2 (Laika)

Just discovering the Funeral album. I know, I know it's a little late. 

2. Bon Iver- Blood Bank

Obsessed doesn't even cover it.

3. Sufjan Stevens- Vesuvius

Finally I have sunk my teeth into the Age of Adz album and can affirm that it is brilliant. Crazy Sufjan magic.

4. Cat Power- Fool

Yay Skins! Also a new obsession.

5. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds- O Children!

Melancholy at its best.

Billy Collins

Introduction to Poetry

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose

to find out what it really means.