electric surgeon
recently i lost a close friend. it’s okay, but thanks for your sympathy. his name was ipod. we were introduced in early 2004 when an unexpected financial windfall allowed us to meet at rosedale mall. we were fast friends. i had an extensive library i was dying to share, he was empty and looking to be musically massaged. soon we were inseperable. we hung out on the bus, in the car, even at work with the aid of a fancy gadget called an fm transmitter. he challenged me to come up with new and exciting playlists, i knew he could turn a dark day into a holiday.
we traveled across the country together. he made a 2000 mile journey in a giant yellow moving van more than bearable, he made it memorable. at my new and oh-so-monotonous job, he gave me an excuse to pretend not to listen to the small town weekend plans of my coworkers. when i got a new and better job, we celebrated together by playing our favorite songs out loud for all the world to hear.
and then, one very gloomy day, ipod stuttered and stopped. i shook him and called his name, and eventually all he showed me was a frowny ipod face (i’m not kidding, there was actually a sad ipod on the screen). i feel guilty because of how quickly i began searching for a replacement. but serendipitous financial windfalls were nowhere to be found. i cried. i cursed his name. i pounded at his face, willing him to awaken from his traitorous sleep. nothing.
and then, like a ray of sunshine through the wintry portland skies. a savior appeared. ‘replace your ipod battery for 12.95 - tools included’. faced with the $300 alternative, i put my heart on the line, online. and tonight, tonight, my friends, i performed surgery on my most loyal companion. armed with tiny, folded instructions replete with “good luck”s and “GENTLY”s, and a post-happy hour blood alcohol boost, i solemnly cracked my friend open, dislocated all lifelines, and gave ipod the new heart he so deserved. we’re together again, and we couldn’t be happier.
certain it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. they are given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs; are subject to trances and visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. the whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare, with her whole ninefold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols.
- washington irving, the legend of sleepy hollow
grace in decay
friday mile
a while ago i wrote about a great band called friday mile. recently, i had the opportunity to hear friday mile play live, here in portland. it was the first stop on their 10 day, 8 show west coast tour, and they sounded well ready for the adventure. the bass player, jake rohr, has been a close friend since we were both in diapers, so it’s especially exciting to hear him play with such a polished, legitimate northwest indie group. i had recently got hold of thei latest album, love & gasoline, and was pleased to hear some of the best new tracks, as well as a few brand new, as yet unrecorded numbers. the group has a very approachable stage presence, it’s easy to see that the four musicians actually like each other and are each fully invested in the sound. the addition of the strong, clear mates-of-state-esque vocals of keyboardist Hannah Williams, is a welcome compliment to the smokey, oh-so-indie flavor of lead singer jace krause. the smooth beats of drummer chad clibborn carry the sound and almost let me forgive the lily white, squareish crowd dancing stiffly in the foreground. this group has deftly mixed the right ingredients to carve out a unique niche in their at times oversaturated genre. i can’t wait to see where they go next. check out more at fridaymile.com.