Update on Wild Light Show

I mentioned Wild Light 2 posts ago, and saw them in Northampton with Bodega Girls last Saturday.

The show was at Iron Horse, a literal hole in the wall on a side street that you wouldn't know was there unless you had already managed to stumble by it once before. There wasn't much of a crowd, but the crowd present was spirited and friendly.

Also, the bartender was fucking amazing. He reminded me of a saloon owner from the Wild West, complete with an oxford shirt under a dark vest and long scraggly hair. He recommended certain drinks to my friend and me, resulting in our quick intoxication.

Bodega Girls were amazing. The lead singer jumped off the stage and made good use of the ample space available to him on the empty dance floor. Well, empty except for my table on one side and the members of Wild Light propped up against the wall on the other. I thought they'd be hiding downstairs somewhere waiting for their set, seeing as they're becoming big wigs with all their big wig touring, but no. They were among the plebes the entire time. I was impressed, and drunk.

I'm pretty sure Wild Light played every song on their debut album, Adult Nights. The dance floor filled up quickly, and everyone who was previously unfamiliar with them picked up some of the lyrics and were singing along with the band.

After the show, the band hung around a bit and talked to friends. I pushed my way through and started telling them about my love for their album and how it's become a valuable writing tool for me. Which is totally true. But, I was drunk, and I'm pretty sure I said something like "from one artist to another...thank you!" They were so friendly, all shook my hand and introduced themselves and were very gracious. True gents.

But the fact that they tolerated my inebriated ramblings really makes me hope they'll "hit it big" or whatever it is bands wish for. I will definitely be seeing them with Doves at House of Blues in Boston next month.

Next time though, I think I'll lay off the sauce.

Sweden wins again: FIRST AID KIT

I've always been fond of female singer-songwriters. I had my hulking black boombox perched on my windowsill for most of the 90's cooing out everything from Jewel's Pieces of You, to the banshee anthems of Alanis Morisset's Jagged Little Pill, Fiona Apple's nightmare-inducing Extraordinay Machines, and a healthy side of prime R&B courtesy of Lauryn Hill's The Miseducation of... in 1998.

This love for the empowered singer-songwriter femme fatale developed further into our current decade. It's morphed into something a bit more hipster and hokey, very unlike the broody tunes with which I entered adolescence in the 90's. Now, instead of Alanis and Fiona, it's Kate Nash, Regina Spektor and Kaki King.

The 2000's are nearing their end, and with the end of another developmentally complicated decade I feel I must continue my journey along the river of the female songstress with a new breed of talent. I present my latest obsession: First Aid Kit.

Meet Johanna and Klara Söderberg, two Swedish sisters who were still infants in their cribs when Alanis was singing to me about traffic jams and irony.

I accidentally found First Aid Kit on youtube while searching for Fleet Foxes, whom I was planning on writing about. Eventually I will write about Fleet Foxes, and the Newport Folk Festival, and camping, and the general appeal of bearded men. I serendipitously found a cover that these girls sang on a log in the woods of Sweden. Their voices gave me goosebumps that still are struggling to recede.

And they're so young! They are the same ages as my two little brothers. Which, naturally, leads me to wonder why the hell my little brothers haven't formed a melodic folk duo yet. I mean, what the hell? The only thing I've seen them perform together is "Albie the Racist Dragon" from Flight of the Conchords.

I'm going to try to adopt Johanna and Klara as the precious little Swedish sisters I've always wanted. I also want to take them camping, though I think they could kick my Yankee ass in that department. I mean, 1) they wear amazing flannels regularly, and 2) they film live performances in the woods. They win, I think.

Favorite of 2009 thus far

Wild Light. An indie band from New Hampshire. Have been compared to early U2, Arcade Fire (with whom they've toured) and Bright Eyes. Not convinced yet?

I first heard their single, "California on My Mind," on WFNX out of Providence while driving home after another bleak day at work. I couldn't get it out of my head but I also couldn't remember the name of the band. I kept hearing parts of the song on the radio, but the band name escaped me for a good 2 weeks. Why? Who knows. Incongruous black holes along Rt. 9 that only hit when I hear a good song. Or maybe I'm just very dull after a day full of bank-tellering.

Doesn't that drive you crazy when you hear a song that you instantly love, and need to hear again, but it alludes you somehow? Finally, on one rainy ride home, I heard the song again. I pulled out my notebook and wrote down some of the lyrics so I could ask my friend Google to find the song for me. Google, once again, prevailed.

I went to Newbury Comics that day and bought the album, and it's been spinning in my car stereo since. It's turned out to be a really amazing writing tool, too. I always think most clearly when I'm driving, and that's why I get most of my pages written in random parking lots up and down Massachusetts. Turns out, driving + Wild Light gets the pages written even faster.

I'm seeing them at Iron Horse in Northampton in May with Bodega Girls, a completely ridiculous group [that I think will be amazing live] with a sound best described as a "lo-fi hedonistic dance party."

Ironically, I'm going to San Francisco the very next weekend. Fuck California, though.

It's them Brits again

I don't know how well The Charlatans are known in the US, but I do know that it isn't easy to find their albums at my local record store. What gives?

I've been listening to this song a lot. The video tries too hard to be indie and it features the trust fund hipster "celebuspawn" of the UK, but...I have no good excuse to justify my actions. I hum it at work and try to reenact their hip English dance moves in the mirror at the end of the hall, even though my brother tells me my moves are heinous.

Nevertheless, here's a bit of good ol' Brit Brat Pop.

What have you done for me lately?

I'm very inconsistent with this thing, and it has absolutely no focus aside from whatever youtube video or wandering thought I'm focused on for at least a minute. I have reviews of some restaurants and bars to do, but I need a little free time for that. Surprisingly, working inconsistent hours, writing/transcribing, the occasional nap, hair cuts and damaging my already dismal ligaments at the gym has left me with little time to sit down and play on the googlynet or watch a bit of tv.

There's also a lot of time dedicated to cats. I know for a fact I would be a happy cat lady because I have no problem telling my cats jokes and letting them claw at me all day.

This isn't my cat, but he is about 95% identical to my Binx Monster. Binx looks a bit more like a bat and his eyes are almost popping out of his head. He also has tufts of white hair on his chest, armpits and crotch. He matured so fast!

Anyways, I dropped a major bucket of change on my first writing workshop yesterday. This month I start a multi-week fiction workshop with Grub Street and I can't wait. I've been stalking this organization for over a year now, waiting for the right time to join. I thought maybe I would try for an internship there because then classes would be free, but it just doesn't work into my bank lady schedule. Bank hours are great. So easy. Wonderful. Home by 4. But internships are out of the question.

So I saved some green and called them up, and I'm one step closer to achieving my one goal in life: write awesome books, have publishers kiss the rings on my fingers and beg for my manuscript, have the awesome books turned into amazing movies starring whichever hunk I may or may not be interested in at that point, and then take my money and move to a mountain overlooking the ocean in Maine. If only a mountain overlooked the ocean in Maine. I'll be famous and wealthy by then so I'll just call up my (soon-to-be) friend Stephen King, and he'll lead me to/build me my dream Mainer Manor. I mean, we both went to UMaine. Our paths are destined to cross.

I don't really like his books though. But I bet he won't like mine either.

WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE

Spike Jonze. Maurice Sendak. Monsters. Arcade Fire.

This gives me goosebumps!

The loss of my innocence

From my darling mother I inherited brown hair, brown eyes, an inability to keep plants alive, and an unfaltering love for Daniel Day-Lewis.

It started with Last of the Mohicans. It is my mom's favorite movie, and I was forced to watch it when I was too young to stomach its mature themes. The movie literally haunted me.

I first watched it on a tiny silver television we found stuffed in a downstairs closet of a solid old house that we were renting on the shore of Christmas Cove, Maine. The violence was excessive and the throbbing love stories woven into the plot were above my prepubescent comprehension.

Despite all this, there was one thing I clearly understood: Daniel Day-Lewis was a one hot hunk of man.

...we now own Last of the Mohicans on VHS and DVD.