Filed under: Inspirational Anthems, Songs to listen to with the windows down, Sunny Dispositions | Tags: Jens Lekman, You put your arms around me, you're so silent jens
On days that I drink Earl Grey tea, I have a tendency to listen to Jens Lekman. Perhaps it’s the warming sensation they both provide. It’s chilly and raining here in Atlanta, a pattern that won’t seem to break (I left Muncie, didn’t I?), and the frequent chilly draft of the office leaves me craving sunshine and spring flowers. A good Earl Grey can half-unearth these things, I can feel the tulip bulbs begin to burst through the weary seams of earth with each sip I take. But the bulbs need a leg up, a voice to guide them along.
We would probably find ourselves in a perpetual state of spring if Jens Lekman would just travel the earth singing with a marching band. Remember in Ferngully, when Magi Lune would put her hand to a tree, and new life would spring underneath it? Jens Lekman’s voice might have that power, at least in our hearts it should. Tell me “Maple Leaves” doesn’t make you think sunshine. Listen to “A Sweet Summer Night on Hammer Hill” and try to convince me you don’t feel half drunk on Dandelion Wine.
My favorite lately, although they vary month to month, is “Put your Arms Around Me.” Because it captures the innocent feeling of fresh love. I’m not talking about Hallmark card Love, the kind you let other people articulate for you. What I’m referring to is the kind of love that makes you want to try everything, ever. The kind that makes you feel most alive. You’ll skydive, you’ll jump in puddles, stay up all night, shoot fireworks, make ridiculous art projects, drive anywhere, drive everywhere, all for one other person. In this case, a rare case, I say ignore the lyrics (about Jens cutting off his finger while slicing an Avacado). Somewhere in there is an odd form of what I’m talking about. Springtime can make you reckless.
-Laura
Filed under: Songs to listen to with the windows down, Songs to start your day, Sunny Dispositions | Tags: A Tune for Jack, Driving, Lemon Jelly, Lemon Jelly.ky
If you want to go on vacation, and find yourself faced with a lack of funding, planning, and the general bravery to just get up and go…turn up the heat as high as possible on a sunny morning, roll down your windows, and listen to “A Tune For Jack.” You will instantly be transported to a solar flared photograph of yourself laughing on the beach: tan, freckled, and completely at ease.
Filed under: Dance like no one is watching, songs that make you feel cool in uncool moments, Songs to listen to with the windows down
Quite frequently, via facebook, I get invited to events and shows in Indiana. It’s great that my friends still want to include me in things, but simultaneously reminds me of cool things I’m missing out on. One such invitation was for an Everything, NOW!/Pomegranates show that occurred last weekend. Everything, NOW! is a great band, full of friends, and it would have been really great to be there. I had never heard of Pomegranates.
But I had been eating a lot of them recently (being a superfood and all).
So, because I love the fruit so much I bought their newest album, “Everybody! Come Outside” without even listening to a preview.
The title track sounds like jumping through a sprinkler. Not in a Vampire Weekend kind of way (they sound more like playful romping on a Caribbean beach). It’s just genuine joy and playfulness, the kind of lawlessness that most people lose when they get their driver’s permit. It’s beautiful.
But the track that made me fall in love is “Svatsi Uutsi.” The initial clapping and playful guitar melodies have a youthful charm that make me want to run barefoot grass in a white eyelet dress and do cartwheels. A montage swims through my mind, hands outside of windows, warm breezes, sunburnt cheeks, and bike rides. What’s not to like about this?
-Laura Celeste
Filed under: Songs for Contemplation | Tags: Classical guitar, El Noi de La Mare, haiku, hawaii, Jean-Felix Lalanne & Muriel Anderson, spanish guitar, Vicky Cristina Barcelona
I’ve had a lot of great moments in my life, but I can count the number of perfect moments on one hand.
The most perfect moment of my life was in Hawaii. [of course it was, you say].
Let me back track a bit. You need to know that I have never felt completely at home anywhere. So those rare moments where I’m in complete unity with my surroundings are the most cherished ones.
The summer of 2004 l I was fortunate to stay with one of my all-time best friends, Jake, and his parents at their home in Haiku, Hawaii. Not once did I feel transplanted there. It was home from the second I stepped foot off of the plane.
One of those mornings I woke up before everyone else and took a shower (which was outdoors, and their was rain on the breeze that ruffled the shower curtain). I dried off, poured myself some coffee, and went to their swinging front porch bench (pictured to the left). Sitting there, listening to the rain was an overwhelming peace. The deepest breath.
I was so happy I cried.
“El Noi de La Mare” off of the Vicky Cristina Barcelona soundtrack, is the only song in the world that can take me back to that place.
-Laura Celeste
Filed under: Songs for Contemplation, Songs to listen to with the windows down, Songs to start your day, Sunny Dispositions | Tags: being there, either way, sky blue sky, songsforyourday, summer teeth, summerteeth, wilco, yankee hotel foxtrot
When Wilco released “Sky Blue Sky” it was welcomed by mixed reviews and my loving ears/arms. For me, who was mildly familiar with the band before becoming a true fan only a few years ago, it was their first album that I could enjoy from its release date forward. I think that’s why it got a special place in my heart. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why Yankee Hotel Foxtrot was groundbreaking, and the first disc of “Being There” always makes my heart go a flutter, but Sky Blue Sky is the album that makes its way through my headphones most frequently.
Someone along the way called it “Dad rock,” A term that was brought to discussion with one of my English professors once, himself a devout Wilco fan. Initially we both acknowledged the phrase’s derogatory intent, but by the end of our analyzation were left to wonder, “What’s wrong with that?”
Personally, I could listen to “Either Way” or “Sky Blue Sky” on repeat all day. It’s alright that Tweedy and the band stepped aside from their edginess, they’re evolving as people in life, it only makes sense that their sound would evolve as well. This progression doesn’t mean that their songs are any less catchy. I frequently get the guitar solo of “Either Way” stuck in my head, and unlike a lot of songs, I’m alright with it remaining stuck there. It’s a song you can wake up to while the sun sneaks through the blinds in lazy blue and white hues. The whole album is great to write to [as I am currently] or daydream to, or sing to yourself while you make dinner, even while you drive on back country roads to the place that you call home. – Laura Celeste
Filed under: sing like no one is listening, songs that make you feel cool in uncool moments | Tags: Ash, Ben Folds, Greenday, Hedwig and the Angry Itch, La Vie En Rose, Louis Armstrong, Ozma, The Velvet Goldmine, Weezer
Once, back when I was wearing smiley-faced black rimmed baby tee’s and Greenday’s Nimrod had great emotional relevance to me, my best friend Amy sent me a mix cd. Amy, who had been my best friend since I lived in Chicago, played a pivotal role in my musical development. She steered me away from the soft-rock radio stations I had been limited to and introduced me to Weezer’s Pinkerton, Green Day’s Dookie, Ash, Ben Kweller, and Ben Folds. By the time our friendship had really blossomed I was in seventh grade, and my bangs were perfectly curled, and soccer season was in full force.
All of her mixes came complete with accompanying playlist and home-made cover art, usually featuring pictures of the bands included, and sometimes some really classic windows fonts. This one that arrived was entitled “The Velvet Goldmine Strikes Back!” and had mirrored images of Jonathan Rhys-Meyers in his glam-rock getup on the cover, with the title bowed over either side of his head. Eagerly I opened the case and put the cd in my boom box, (which was about the same size of me at the time)..
It’s a great mix cd, still holds up, full of greats: songs from Hedwig and the Angry Itch, Ben Folds covers of Beatles songs, Ozma.
When track six came on I heard the tinkle of fingers waltzing upward on the piano and then … TRUMPET! loud and bellowing! and then a rugged an old man’s creaky voice…
“Hold me close and hold me fast… this magic spell you cast… this is la vie en rose!”
“WHOA! Who is this guy?” opening up the cd case as I spoke to myself, “Louis Armstrong?” I put the song on repeat and turned up the volume. Twenty minutes later dinner was ready, and I ignored my mother’s voice from the bottom of the stairs. “LAAAAURAAAAAAA! Dinnnerrrrrrrrr!” after five minutes of yelling she came upstairs and opened the door. “Laura! Dinner is getting cold! What are yo-”
And when you speak aaaangels sing from abooooove… I stood up and began to sing with Louis. She dropped her arm and started to tear up. Where did you find this? she asked, her eyes wide and glossed. I told her Amy sent it to me and she smiled.
“My mother used to sing this song to me when she was making dinner” she said
We hugged and let the song finish, then went downstairs to join the family.
Filed under: sing like no one is listening, Songs for Contemplation | Tags: "Strangers", Darjeeling Ltd., The Kinks
Okay, I’m deriving from my list for a special tribute. If you’ve seen “Darjeeling Ltd.” then you’ve heard “Strangers” by the Kinks. It’s hard to hear what Ray Davies is singing sometimes, with his raspy englishman growl into the microphone and all, but it’s a pretty good song even when you don’t know the words.
Most evenings you can find me diligently chopping up garlic and herbs with slightly dull knives over our warped wooden cutting board, prepping a feast. It’s the only time (outside of the shower) that I sing as loud as I can to whatever is playing through the speakers. A lot of nights it’s Chet Baker, or Ella and Louis, whatever my grandmother used to listen to in her jazz singer days. The other night I put on Norah Jones’ latest, and just let it play. After about an hour I heard a familiar piano line cue, causing me to move away from my sauteeing vegetables in the skillet.
“Where you going to? I don’t mind. I’ve killed my world and I’ve killed my time…”
The good thing about Ms. Jones is that she enunciates. So for the first time, after loving this song for so long, I could finally understand what she was singing about. Sitting on my living room carpet, leaving the broccoli and peppers to brown on top of the stove, the sentiment of the song crept towards me. This is a poignant song about life, and finding someone to go through it with, together it all becomes easier. I thought about the burns in the carpet that Michael and I have hid, from when I knocked over the hookah with a blanket. I stared at the stencil of “the Dude” above our fireplace. Drawn for Michael’s birthday, but cut out by him, since I lack the precision to cut in a straight line.
“So we will share this road we walk, And mind our mouths and beware our talk. ’Til peace we find tell you what I’ll do: all the things I own I will share with you. and if I feel tomorrow like I feel today..we’ll take what we want and give the rest away. Strangers on this road we are on, but we are not two, we are one.”
I put the song on repeat, and we listened to it as we ate our carbon-enriched meal.
Filed under: Inspirational Anthems, Night Drive Tunes, Songs for Contemplation, Songs of Triumph, songs that make you feel cool in uncool moments, Songs to listen to with the windows down, Songs to start your day, Sunny Dispositions | Tags: morning commute, sufjan stevens, The BQE
I’m a big list person, so forgive the potentially cheesy tendency to list my favorite albums this year. They will not be in any specific order, just ten equally great albums.
With that said, here it goes.
#10: Sufjan Stevens, “The BQE”
Everyone who knows me has to be aware that I am a total sucker for Sufjan, ever since Seven Swans. As a musical artist he seeks to master his craft wherever it may take him. It’s taken him to some pretty unique places: The Chinese Zodiac, The Bible, as well as the great states of Illinois and Michigan. Then his inspiration took him to a bridge, which many New Yorkers will instantly complain about. The BQE is narrow, windy, and often crowded. “The BQE” Sufjan’s latest musical effort weaved it’s way through me from the instant “Prelude on the Esplanade” commenced. The music tapers much like the confines of the rustic bridge it illustrates, following many a morning commuters’ speedometers, often jolting to sudden halts and then slowly creeping its way forward until the “Self-Organizing Emergent Patterns” commences! Sufjan succeeds in making every morning commute a triumphant adventure, but even more so, he reached a new level of his art. It makes me sad that so many indie fans simply because he abandoned his State-themed venture. This may not be an album that can be marketed to his normal crowd, but it is most certainly an opus that should not go unnoticed. 
Filed under: Inspirational Anthems, Night Drive Tunes, Songs of Triumph | Tags: Anathallo, Canopy Glow, Electric Glow, Lost Ring Finger
“An astronaut lost his ring finger to the back of a grain truck.”
Great opening line for a short story by J.D. Salinger, or even Hemingway. It is neither of these things. It’s the opening line to a song by Anathallo, and it’s the most beautiful song I have ever heard.
About once a season I come across a song that takes my breath away so much that I often put it on repeat, listening to it everywhere: in the car, at home, at work, whilst running. A fear broke wide inside me this morning, that like so many other well-loved items in my life, songs have the capability to wear thin. For those whom music ignites the nervous system, tingling through every epidermal layer and crawling up our spines, the resonance from the initial playback can be muted over the course of time. “Lost Ring Finger” is a melodic experience I have grown to cherish over the past few months, and the idea of its pull fading over time, like the threads of my baby blanket, or the walls of my grandmother’s house, makes me feel vulnerable. It may sound crazy to say, but hopefully someone can understand, this song has a very real value to me, and I dread the day that it is put to the needle and sounds strange.
“Lost Ring Finger” is a song of exaltation. The layered melodies of individual voices, choruses, pianos and strings will carry you up and crash you down like a tidal wave, disoriented and astonished. Cherish the feeling of it.
Laura Celeste
Filed under: Inspirational Anthems, sing like no one is listening, Songs of Triumph | Tags: Blacklisted, Middle Cyclone, Neko Case, This Tornado Loves you
So I started another band. We’re calling ourselves LaVista. I’ll leave it up to you as to why that is our name, and trust that your imagination will be much more colorful than our true reasoning. We’re about a month into the project and things are coming along rather smoothly. We’ve got a solid song under our belt, and four on the way, which is not shabby for a fledgling band. We’ve agreed to wait to play shows until we have a solid set under our belt. Tyler and I want to do this right.
Tyler insists that I do the most of the singing, which is fine I guess, as long as eventually I figure out how to rock out standing with an autoharp. But that leaves me with a lot to think about. In the past I had a wurlitzer to sit and hide behind, and Gavin took the singing reigns predominantly. So, I spent weeks of idle time in the previous weeks scanning through live videos of my favorite female lead singers trying to figure out what kind of performances really inspired me.
Then I made this list: (keep in mind, these are my favorite musicians, I’m trying to think of what kind of image I could harness, this is in no way derogatory).
St. Vincent: too bird-like.
My Brightest Diamond: too spooky.
CatPower: too smoker-voice.
Camera Obscura: too child-like
Heart: too epic
Amy Winehouse: a bit too much overall
Asobi Seksu: too inaudible
Bat for Lashes: too dreary
Postmarks: too whimsical
She and Him: too sixties pop
Rainer Maria: too cool
Yeah Yeah Yeah’s: too female David Bowie.
Duke Spirit: hmm…getting there.
And then I came across Neko Case on Austin City limits. With her fiery hair and huge voice, she never fails to blow me away. Lyrically she is also brilliant. Simultaneously barbaric and feminine:
“My love I am the speed of sound, I left them motherless, fatherless. Their souls dangling inside-out from their mouths, but it’s never enough…I want you. Carved your name across three counties, ground it in with bloody hides, their broken necks will line the ditch until you stop it, stop this madness. I want you.”
And that dark, rustic, americana sound is something that not only lends itself to the autoharp, but is something that vocally, I am totally capable of. That’s what I’m going to go for, but in my own way. Let’s see how it goes.
Watch Neko Case rock your socks off here.
Songs For Your Day 