Monday 05.02.2011 | 3:23 PM EST
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“Ballad of Distances, Part 1″ | Stars of the Lid, The Tired Sounds of… | 2001
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in a windowless room i lie
beside you, stretched out long
and lithe, your thigh draped over mine.
i am breathless as you lie
breathing in this lightless pitch.
I cannot help but watch your unlit face
beaming in the dark
Friday 04.29.2011 | 3:23 PM EST
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“Green Grow The Rushes” | R.E.M., Fables of the Reconstruction, 1985
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After laying bare for Brooklyn’s long winter months, spring finally has these blind-less windows crawling anew with ivy’s’ vibrant green. Soon they will overtake the panes, covering them completely with a lush green blanket that brightens the room and holds snoopy neighbors at bay.
(But I like snooping. You know you do too.)
Friday 04.29.2011 | 10:23 AM EST
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“Another Sunny Day” | Belle & Sebastian, The Life Pursuit, 2006
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Is this dress too spring-y?
It is spring.
Is this dress too spring-y?
She emphasizes the specificity of her statement with playful sternness. Specificity is important to us. It suits our desire for people to listen to words with the respectful admiration they deserve. Like a film script. Every word carefully placed for a reason.
I am unsure what the criteria for too spring-y is.
This isn’t an April dress. More July, doncha think?
I think I know what she means.
Put it on. I like watching her ready herself in the morning
She slips on one of those stretchy form-fitting undershirts girls wear under things. (I think it alone is fine as a top, why don’t you wear that ?). She then slips the vintage dress over her head, waggling her hips to help settle it around her waist and legs. Knee length, three buttons at the bust, it’s white silk with a pervasive pattern of green vines, punctuated by large, pink tulips. Pink tulips? Maybe this is too spring-y. Too summery, too. Just too, um “too.” But two epaulet-type half-belt & button thingy’s flank either side of the dress, and when fastened, they cinch her small waistline nicely, giving it shape and grace. I’m beginning to overlook the pink.
Well, what do you think, inspecting herself in the mirror, her back to me.
Turn around
She turns, kicking her hip slightly to the right, tilting her head coquettishly to the left. With her blond hair and pale skin, she looks like a vanilla ice cream cone with sprinkles on top. I’m beginning to warm to the pink.
I like it. Wear that.
She proceeds with the required accessorizing, first debating cardigan color options. Green? Too much green. Pink? Wow, there’s that pink again, but then again, it does create a nice balance to the ivy. Without a word from me, it’s settled, pink it is. She then leans forward at her bureau, rummaging through a selection of earrings and necklaces latticed and tangled as the vines on her dress. She chooses emerald hoops encrusted with small diamond-like stones.
If you’re gonna be girly, you gotta be girly.
They look lovely.
Then come the shoes, vintage closed-toed pumps in a color that I believe is called “nude.” I have little doubt about those, seasons be damned. As she walks down the hallway, down the stairs and out into the brilliant spring morning sunshine, the silk shimmers against her skin, a tangential glimmer that catches the eye of a tall gentleman passing by us. His eyes shift in a subtle double-take (nicely done, man). The season matches her step, her walk itself a springy event. In any season, I love to watch her walk.
Thursday 04.28.2011 | 11:23 AM EST
“Dot” | Gonzales, Solo Piano, 2005
Over a lovely green dress, straps not quite enough wide,
you tried on four black cardigans.
One was too long
One was too warm
One didn’t provide the coverage required
to keep eyes from prying about our affair
I marked you.
Under an army green shirt I am writ with
spidery scratches, the cartography of conjugation
You marked me, but I have nothing to hide.
Saturday 04.16.2011 | 8:03 PM EST
“Sleep Til Morning” | Little Silver, The Stolen Souvenir, 2011
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You foodies know how a good cook can turn the simplest ingredients into a delectable feast. Sometimes you ask, hey, this is delicious, what’s in it?, expecting a long list of exotic ingredients, but instead they rattle off something like, oh, a tomato, some salt and oregano and just a squeeze of lime. Yeah right, and Rush is only a three-piece band.
Well, turns out Rush really is only a three piece and we know all about what they manage to accomplish. But before you start harping on poor old Rush, we’re not here to talk about them. Or tomatoes.
The Brooklyn singer/songwriters that take their name from a little ‘ole town in Jersey, Little Silver do in fact take the simplest ingredients and serve up absolutely beautiful songs. Husband and wife duo Erika Simonian and Steve Curtis toss two guitars, a dash of piano, a pinch of vibrato and two gorgeous voices into the delicious appetizer know as The Stolen Souvenir (EP). Did I mention the voices? Man, these two entwine themselves into quite a strand of heavenly sound. Like wine and cheese, chocolate and sea salt, lime and cilantro, it’s a perfect pairing that leaves you just a little breathless.
I got only three problems with this record:
1. Sequencing, man. Didn’t you guys read High Fidelity? Don’t start off with a song so devastatingly beautiful you end up listening to only that over and over before you remember there’s, like, other songs on the record.
2. “Food From the Cow,” a previously recorded track on Erika’s 2003 solo record. Still creeps me out.
3. I’m still hungry. Make more.
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Visit them at littlesilvermusic.com
“some salt and oregano and just a squeeze of lime”
makes me think about Piano Briefs :)
I agree! make more! I saw their fabulous ithaca debut last night. Their voices compliment each other effortlessly and beautifully. And if Sleep til morning doesn’t get picked up as part of a movie soundtrack then there’s something seriously wrong with this world. I also have to add that to see a pregnant Erika on stage is one of the sexiest things ever.
Saturday 04.16.2011 | 5:47 PM EST
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“Hey Mr. Rain” | Velvet Underground, Another View, 1968
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See, what’d I tell ya? Two days ago we were skipping down the sidewalk wearing spring grins and light jackets, and now, WTF? April is in fact a sadist little bitch, dangling true spring days in our face and snatching ‘em back just as fast. Back to cold dark winds and incessant rain. At least the ivy’s beginning to show her little red buds. Soon the windows will be overgrown with verdant tendrils and my neighbors won’t get to snoop on me for a few months. Sorry neighbors, you’ll have to go back to watching Bravo soon.
I love these photos!! They almost have a graffiti like quality.
Thursday 04.14.2011 | 7:23 PM EST
“Shadows & Tall Trees” | U2, Boy, 1980
Yep, there’s been a lot of reporting on Brooklyn climate last couple days, only cause the weather has been positively kinetic, changing drastically every 24 hours. Last night we were pounded by lightning, pelted with rain, positively ripped from our hinges by gusting wind.
Tonight, it’s a beautiful sunset over Riverside Park on the Upper West Side. The trees are stark against a radiant sinking sun, making long black shadows across the park path. I’m wearing a light jacket for the first time this season, and walking feels light and free as I do vertical leaps to touch the top of the green residential awnings typical of this moneyed neighborhood.
I typically think of the title track to this post as a winter lament but, clever bastard that I am, it works so well I just couldn’t help myself.Cheers.
Hmmm. I think you mean upper west. Please write a retraction.
Not Berlin, not China, not the Floyd, just every photo on maunet, laid out brick by brick.
Sharing a numerical moniker with c23,Mick 23 iterates one simple graphic element into a remarkable variety of visual/verbal haikus.
Saturday 04.30.2011 | 1:58 EST
yula says:
bring out the binocs honey. snoop away. it’s all a movie anyway.