No one blogs anymore. Long-form opinion sharing is dead. A 280-character tweet suffices these days; if your thoughts go on longer than that limit, you can just connect your tweets in a chain. And barely anyone has the attention span for even that. Blogs are dead.
It didn't use to be this way! A decade ago, all the cool kids were blogging. Just check out the right-hand sidebar, under the heading "Friends / Graveyards." At least NINETEEN of my friends were blogging at one point. Most of blogs are long dormant ("Fatter, Older", the exception, keeps chugging away).
The blogs are dead, but I wish it wasn't so. I want these nineteen blogs to restart, to begin posting again. And I will do my part to help!!!!
To get everybody started, I will now write a new blog post for each of the blogs listed on my blogroll (well, okay, the ones that I have even slightest clue what they are or were about). I will write these new entries in the style of each respective main writer, or at least my best approximation of it. Hopefully this will jump-start the blog culture once again!
What's the blog about: sports opinions from a non-sports fan
It didn't use to be this way! A decade ago, all the cool kids were blogging. Just check out the right-hand sidebar, under the heading "Friends / Graveyards." At least NINETEEN of my friends were blogging at one point. Most of blogs are long dormant ("Fatter, Older", the exception, keeps chugging away).
The blogs are dead, but I wish it wasn't so. I want these nineteen blogs to restart, to begin posting again. And I will do my part to help!!!!
To get everybody started, I will now write a new blog post for each of the blogs listed on my blogroll (well, okay, the ones that I have even slightest clue what they are or were about). I will write these new entries in the style of each respective main writer, or at least my best approximation of it. Hopefully this will jump-start the blog culture once again!
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Who writes for this blog: It's been so long that I honestly forget~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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What's the blog about: sports opinions from a non-sports fan
Charlie and the Baseball Factory
After all the quibbling we've done about whether the Phillies should sign Nice Harper or Manuel No-Hustle Manchado this off-season, what most baseball fans have neglected to mention is that there was a third candidate in the mix for a Phillies blockbuster signing. Yes, I'm talking about Charlie Sheen.
Sure, he may just play a convicted-felon-cum-baseball-pitcher in a movie, but it's not like the guy has anything better to do. Knowing Sheen like I do (not at all), I know that this guy is just chilling in the Bahamas, waiting for some rich baseball manager or whatever to travel down there and hand him a big ol' contract. Sheen can put aside the flat surface propped with various lines of coke to the side and sign that bad boy, and get back to his first love. Now I know what you guys are saying—that Sheen isn't actually a baseball player. But why should we judge him for that? This is a man who became famous for a catchphrase "winning," so if anyone can come out to the mound and throw a few strikes at some small-dicked, large mustachioed b-list movie actors, it's this guy. "I just want to do something besides make 90 more episodes of Anger Management" said Sheen. Now that's some TV I can get behind. I don't even need the Comcast Sportsnet cable package to watch it.
Whenever I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of some kind of self-destruction, I inevitably find myself thinking about life's greater purpose, and somehow, in some inverse fashion, this calms and soothes me. Why were we put here? Was it just to suffer? Or is it just to live, and then to die, and perhaps make some kind of measurable impact along the way?
It's not easy, grappling with life's heavy questions, but sometimes it's easier than dealing with the mostly frivolous surface-level silliness that's ailing me currently.
First things first, though, I need a drink.
I was sipping on maybe my third beer—cheap, like we used to drink in Northeast Philly—at my favorite bar in the city. Fergie's. Life was getting to me. But then something miraculous happened. All of a sudden, I heard that thundering opening saxophone blast of "Born to Run." The boss, he'll fix what's wrong, always.
From singing "The E Street Shuffle" at Strahle St. block parties to blasting "Thunder Road" out of the family car on trips to the zoo, I was raised in the Church of Bruce. He is my knight in shining armor when I'm feeling low and down and out. He and his sexy bald cohort Clarence can shake me from any funk.
Including this one. I sat there, letting Bruce wash over me, let my favorite song cleanse me, cleanse my soul. There in Fergie's, I felt another consciousness, and I was happy. I can't bury it.
Congratulations to the Delta Phi Epsilon sorority for completing their campus-funded art display. Their work (seen above) will be displayed for the next four semesters outside McShain Hall, at the former location of the creepy Walking Madonna statue.
The final design for the triplicate of sculptures was chosen in a secret vote among all 47 due-paying members of the sorority on La Salle's campus. The winning vote went to Sophomore Tammy Chrissy Lloyd's design, which she described in the submission as "a subversive take on the trials and tribulations of Greek life on campus."
There are currently 71 active chapters of Delta Phi Epsilon, including the Epsilon Zeta chapter at La Salle University, chartered in 1986. It is believed that this art display will be the first of its kind for the sorority, a real win for the La Salle chapter.
When asked about what impact this incredible work of art would have on student life on campus, President Colleen Hanycz declined to comment.
—Lauren M.
Sure, he may just play a convicted-felon-cum-baseball-pitcher in a movie, but it's not like the guy has anything better to do. Knowing Sheen like I do (not at all), I know that this guy is just chilling in the Bahamas, waiting for some rich baseball manager or whatever to travel down there and hand him a big ol' contract. Sheen can put aside the flat surface propped with various lines of coke to the side and sign that bad boy, and get back to his first love. Now I know what you guys are saying—that Sheen isn't actually a baseball player. But why should we judge him for that? This is a man who became famous for a catchphrase "winning," so if anyone can come out to the mound and throw a few strikes at some small-dicked, large mustachioed b-list movie actors, it's this guy. "I just want to do something besides make 90 more episodes of Anger Management" said Sheen. Now that's some TV I can get behind. I don't even need the Comcast Sportsnet cable package to watch it.
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Who writes for this blog: Mandy
What's the blog about: self-reflections and concert reviews
Wreck on the Highway
Whenever I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of some kind of self-destruction, I inevitably find myself thinking about life's greater purpose, and somehow, in some inverse fashion, this calms and soothes me. Why were we put here? Was it just to suffer? Or is it just to live, and then to die, and perhaps make some kind of measurable impact along the way?
It's not easy, grappling with life's heavy questions, but sometimes it's easier than dealing with the mostly frivolous surface-level silliness that's ailing me currently.
First things first, though, I need a drink.
I was sipping on maybe my third beer—cheap, like we used to drink in Northeast Philly—at my favorite bar in the city. Fergie's. Life was getting to me. But then something miraculous happened. All of a sudden, I heard that thundering opening saxophone blast of "Born to Run." The boss, he'll fix what's wrong, always.
From singing "The E Street Shuffle" at Strahle St. block parties to blasting "Thunder Road" out of the family car on trips to the zoo, I was raised in the Church of Bruce. He is my knight in shining armor when I'm feeling low and down and out. He and his sexy bald cohort Clarence can shake me from any funk.
Including this one. I sat there, letting Bruce wash over me, let my favorite song cleanse me, cleanse my soul. There in Fergie's, I felt another consciousness, and I was happy. I can't bury it.
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Who writes for this blog: Kait, I think?
What's the blog about: it's gone now, but if it was what I think it was, the blog featured diary entries from a semester in Ireland
The Best Irish Pizza?
Even though I'm missing home terribly, there is one thing about Ireland that keeps me from being so homesick that it hurts. That little slice of heaven. Apache Pizza. I can't wait till all my friends from La Salle visit and I can show them my favorite part of this amazing country. It's just like Treetops, except the pizza is actually edible. And it's open past 10 PM. I can't tell you how many times I've ended my night—a night full of traditional music at the Crane Bar, oysters at Quays, and shots at Tig Coili—at Apache, eating their trash pizza that's oh so good. Sure, the decor might be a bit racist, but it's tough to judge when you are drunk and starving and in a strange country. My Irish friends and I made a promise that, 20 years from now, we'd all meet back around this same table at this same Apache Pizza, and get a slice, and relive the great semester we've had so far.
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Who writes for this blog: Collegian staff
What's the blog about: leftover material that couldn't fit in the newspaper
Delta Phi Epsilon Completes Campus Art Project
Congratulations to the Delta Phi Epsilon sorority for completing their campus-funded art display. Their work (seen above) will be displayed for the next four semesters outside McShain Hall, at the former location of the creepy Walking Madonna statue.
The final design for the triplicate of sculptures was chosen in a secret vote among all 47 due-paying members of the sorority on La Salle's campus. The winning vote went to Sophomore Tammy Chrissy Lloyd's design, which she described in the submission as "a subversive take on the trials and tribulations of Greek life on campus."
There are currently 71 active chapters of Delta Phi Epsilon, including the Epsilon Zeta chapter at La Salle University, chartered in 1986. It is believed that this art display will be the first of its kind for the sorority, a real win for the La Salle chapter.
When asked about what impact this incredible work of art would have on student life on campus, President Colleen Hanycz declined to comment.
—Lauren M.
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Who writes for this blog: Megan
What's the blog about: life updates and pop culture observations
Top 5 Tuesday: Tea
Things have been going pretty well on all fronts. Elliott is growing up into a handsome young man, and so smart! Yesterday, we caught him trying to read one of the Song of Fire and Ice books. Not yet, little man! Jason and I have been working hard, but also enjoy a lot of time together (see updates in our joint blog, The Yingers, on the sidebar!). But today is Tuesday, so I am here with another Top 5 Tuesday! Top 5 herbal teas. Go!
5. Tazo: Jason bought me a box of this for Christmas, and I've been slowly making my way through it. It's not bad! A little too sweet, especially on those mornings when Elliott is being a little bugger and I need more of a wake up!
4. Celestial: It might be a little higher if it didn't share the same name as one of the worst directors in Masque theater history (babies, do you know what show she directed? Let GrandMoM know in the comments)
3. Tetley: This tea takes me back to freshman year of college and the way I changed in that year. It reminds me of the time that it took from me hating being at college to me adoring being at La Salle.
2. Bigelow: Jason and I both drink this tea when we are under the weather. Something about it clears the sinuses better than a neti pot ever could!
1. Yorkshire: Oh, A-15. This tea was our calling card. We drank it at every party, danced on the couches in our house, and got us ready to just be crazy the rest of the night. We also drank it at my wedding as a special treat. Anytime I smell Yorkshire tea, I just have to stop and take a sip.
Well, that's it. Lots of exciting things happening in my life. Thanks to the few readers out there for reading, hope to see you soon!
- I'm peachy.
5. Tazo: Jason bought me a box of this for Christmas, and I've been slowly making my way through it. It's not bad! A little too sweet, especially on those mornings when Elliott is being a little bugger and I need more of a wake up!
4. Celestial: It might be a little higher if it didn't share the same name as one of the worst directors in Masque theater history (babies, do you know what show she directed? Let GrandMoM know in the comments)
3. Tetley: This tea takes me back to freshman year of college and the way I changed in that year. It reminds me of the time that it took from me hating being at college to me adoring being at La Salle.
2. Bigelow: Jason and I both drink this tea when we are under the weather. Something about it clears the sinuses better than a neti pot ever could!
1. Yorkshire: Oh, A-15. This tea was our calling card. We drank it at every party, danced on the couches in our house, and got us ready to just be crazy the rest of the night. We also drank it at my wedding as a special treat. Anytime I smell Yorkshire tea, I just have to stop and take a sip.
Well, that's it. Lots of exciting things happening in my life. Thanks to the few readers out there for reading, hope to see you soon!
- I'm peachy.
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Who writes for this blog: Dave
What's the blog about: miscellaneous essays with a slight emphasis on sports
Stop Picking Me Last
2018: 3 touchdowns on 10 completions, plus a recovered fumble and two sacks
2017: 4 touchdowns on 8 completions, plus I moved the chains at least four times, and blocked countless tackles because my team's offensive line was a JOKE
2016: 2 touchdowns on 14 completions for at least 350 yards, and that's not even including the two interceptions playing on defense. Lamson couldn't do SHIT
2015: 5 touchdowns on 17 completions, and I would've caught more if Jim and Brendan weren't fucking around the whole game, throwing shitty passes
I mean, do I need to go on? I know it's a joke, but I'm taking this very seriously. Do you know how embarrassing it is that Ashley has to see me picked last every year? That fucking Joe K*** gets picked before me? It's not funny. I'm better than this. It makes me look like an asshole.
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Who writes for this blog: Dr. Doug
What's the blog about: life updates, each post featuring a song whose themes reflect those life updates
Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
Medical school has been going for about four weeks now. It's challenging, but I feel like I've maybe finally found what I'm good at (take that, culinary aspirations!)
Yesterday, during my second Practical of the semester (skills such as: intestine identification) I felt like I had my first "light bulb" moment here at school. My gut told me that, even though this was a tough test, that I could remember the different organs if I could just compare them to Jekyll & Hyde characters!
So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road
Peace and Good Things :-)
Great indie rock can dispel the notion that great indie rock has to be small, or quiet. Truly great indie rock can also be loud; truly great indie rock can get you out of your seat. Indie rock can make you feel like you will live forever. The Japandroids sound like [more popular band that Joe is not familiar with], but without the need for a grand appeal. Japandroids appeal to no one and everyone when they scream into the dark, cold abyss of life. There are days when I forget this song exists. Those are my least favorite days.
Yesterday, during my second Practical of the semester (skills such as: intestine identification) I felt like I had my first "light bulb" moment here at school. My gut told me that, even though this was a tough test, that I could remember the different organs if I could just compare them to Jekyll & Hyde characters!
- Jekyll/Hyde are the heart and lungs, obviously
- Emma Carew is the liver
- John Utterson, the stomach
- Lord Savage is the lymbic system (oh the joys of learning about that)
- Sir Danvers, clearly, is the brain!
This got me reflecting upon my years at La Salle.
I remember there was a time when Davey and Greg took me to the diner late one night, and told me about how I would miss my time at my alma mater, when it was said and done. I had so much to look forward to after graduation, that I didn't believe them at the time. I believe them now.
So goodbye yellow brick road
Where the dogs of society howl
You can't plant me in your penthouse
I'm going back to my plough
Back to the howling old owl in the woods
Hunting the horny back toad
Oh I've finally decided my future lies
Beyond the yellow brick road
Peace and Good Things :-)
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Who writes for this blog: Nate
What's the blog about: miscellaneous reviews, observations, and essays, with an emphasis on music
100 Words: Japandroids' "The House That Heaven Built"
Great indie rock can dispel the notion that great indie rock has to be small, or quiet. Truly great indie rock can also be loud; truly great indie rock can get you out of your seat. Indie rock can make you feel like you will live forever. The Japandroids sound like [more popular band that Joe is not familiar with], but without the need for a grand appeal. Japandroids appeal to no one and everyone when they scream into the dark, cold abyss of life. There are days when I forget this song exists. Those are my least favorite days.
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Who writes for this blog: Emily
What's the blog about: life updates and struggles
Sue Me
Early 5:30 AM drives to work give me a lot to think about. It's been a weird winter. I like my coworkers but I wish they would stop calling me "shorty." It's annoying. And to top it all off, I think I'm coming down with a cold. Ugh. It's times like this when I just start YouTubing random movie and theater numbers. Remember when we did Guys and Dolls at La Salle?
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Who writes for this blog: Sam Fran
What's the blog about: reviews for each of the top 100 movies and books of all time
A Good Movie? You Betchya
#84 Fargo directed by Joel and Ethan Coen
When I was a young child, I was in the Boy Scouts. The cold did not deter us from camping through some long winter nights. I remember my dad telling me that the key was to wear layers. As it got colder, you could add layers, and as the sun came up and started to thaw the campsite, you could take layers off.
All this to say that Fargo is a great winter-weather movie with a lot of layers.
I was familiar with the TV series Fargo first, so I was excited to see that the movie from which it was based was featured on AFI's list. As is sometimes (mostly?) the case with the Coen Brothers, there was a lot of exciting violence and a lot of nuanced humor sprinkled throughout the film.
A QUICK PLOT RUNDOWN: Fargo is the story of a desperate car salesman (William H. Macy) who hires two criminals to fake kidnap his wife, in order to demand a ransom from her father-in-law. The police chief of a small Minnesota town tries to solve the case, and does so with much Midwest geniality.
It should be noted how great Frances McDormand is in this film as the police chief -- her performance was absolutely Oscar-worthy. She just kicks so much ass as a pregnant, happy-go-lucky but skilled detective. Despite the fact that she doesn't get to wring as many laughs out of her performance as, say, the sarcastic Steve Buschemi, she still immediately assumes the position as the "good guy."
In fact, after thinking about how damn good McDormand is, I should say fuck William H. Macy. McDormand plays Minnesotan as sweet, but Macy plays it as somehow both bumbling and slimy, and it doesn't really quite work. But I guess that makes the moment he gets his comeuppance all the better.
There's one scene that encapsulates this movies deranged sense of humor, and is toward the end, when we see one criminal nonchalantly feeding the other criminal's body into the woodchipper. The scene is played, not with the sense of horror that a gruesome murder would typically require, but with a deadpan normality. The criminal simply tries to run, and the police chief just shoots him in the leg, then arrests him. What would have been a crazy shoot-out or chase scene ended with the good guy winning with simple police work.
So Fargo was good. I may have even like it better than the TV show. Maybe.
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(#83) - Platoon directed by Oliver Stone, which I have on my Blockbuster DVD-By-Mail queue.
Who writes for this blog: Harry |
| Bundled up for winter, just like Bart and the gang |
When I was a young child, I was in the Boy Scouts. The cold did not deter us from camping through some long winter nights. I remember my dad telling me that the key was to wear layers. As it got colder, you could add layers, and as the sun came up and started to thaw the campsite, you could take layers off.
All this to say that Fargo is a great winter-weather movie with a lot of layers.
I was familiar with the TV series Fargo first, so I was excited to see that the movie from which it was based was featured on AFI's list. As is sometimes (mostly?) the case with the Coen Brothers, there was a lot of exciting violence and a lot of nuanced humor sprinkled throughout the film.
A QUICK PLOT RUNDOWN: Fargo is the story of a desperate car salesman (William H. Macy) who hires two criminals to fake kidnap his wife, in order to demand a ransom from her father-in-law. The police chief of a small Minnesota town tries to solve the case, and does so with much Midwest geniality.
It should be noted how great Frances McDormand is in this film as the police chief -- her performance was absolutely Oscar-worthy. She just kicks so much ass as a pregnant, happy-go-lucky but skilled detective. Despite the fact that she doesn't get to wring as many laughs out of her performance as, say, the sarcastic Steve Buschemi, she still immediately assumes the position as the "good guy."
In fact, after thinking about how damn good McDormand is, I should say fuck William H. Macy. McDormand plays Minnesotan as sweet, but Macy plays it as somehow both bumbling and slimy, and it doesn't really quite work. But I guess that makes the moment he gets his comeuppance all the better.
There's one scene that encapsulates this movies deranged sense of humor, and is toward the end, when we see one criminal nonchalantly feeding the other criminal's body into the woodchipper. The scene is played, not with the sense of horror that a gruesome murder would typically require, but with a deadpan normality. The criminal simply tries to run, and the police chief just shoots him in the leg, then arrests him. What would have been a crazy shoot-out or chase scene ended with the good guy winning with simple police work.
So Fargo was good. I may have even like it better than the TV show. Maybe.
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(#83) - Platoon directed by Oliver Stone, which I have on my Blockbuster DVD-By-Mail queue.
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What's the blog about: to quote— "shits and giggles, more the shits part"
Still New Member
I know it's been ten years, but I really want to get in on this whole blogging thing. It seems fun.
Peace be with you
Peace be with you
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Who writes for this blog: Allison
What's the blog about: miscellaneous pop culture observations, life goals, recipes
1001 Days, Take 3
I've been on soup kick recently. Last week at B9B, John, Dave and I watched a weird forgettable 2001 movie called Tortilla Soup, that we are now obsessed with, and that obsession has somehow carried over to actually making soup. So I am here, rebooting my old 101 Things in 1001 Days list, but this time with soups. I am going to try to make each of these soups for me and Stephan over the next 1001 days (I couldn't whittle it down, so what the hell, here's 151 soups). Third time is a charm!
Soups
Soups
- Aguadito
- Ajiaco
- Analı kızlı soup
- Avgolemono
- Avocado soup
- Bacon soup
- Bak kut teh
- Bakso
- Barley
- Beef noodle soup
- Beer soup
- Bergen fish soup
- Bird's nest soup
- Borscht
- Bouillabaisse
- Bouillon
- Bourou-Bourou
- Bread soup
- Brenebon
- Brown veal
- Brown Windsor soup
- Bun bo Hue
- Buridda
- Butajiru
- Cabbage soup
- Caldillo de congrio
- Callaloo
- Canh chua
- Canja de Galinha
- Carp soup
- Carrot soup
- Chestnut bisque
- Chicken noodle soup
- Chicken vegetable soup
- Chupe
- Cock-a-leekie
- Cold borscht
- Consommé
- Corn chowder
- Crab bisque
- Cream of apple soup
- Cream of asparagus
- Cream of broccoli
- Cream of celery
- Cream of chicken
- Cream of potato
- Cream of tomato
- Cream of Crab
- Cream of mushroom
- Crème Ninon
- Cucumber soup
- Cullen skink
- Curry Mee
- Dashi
- Duck soup
- Egg drop soup
- Fish soup
- Fisherman's Soup
- French onion soup
- Fruktsoppa
- Fufu and Egusi soup
- Gazpacho
- Goat meat pepper soup
- Golden Mushroom
- Goulash
- Ground nut soup
- Gumbo
- Harira
- Hot and sour soup
- Íslensk Kjötsúpa
- Kwāti
- Laksa
- Lagman
- Leek soup
- Lettuce soup
- Lentil soup
- Lobster stew
- Lobster bisque
- Log-log
- Lung fung soup
- Maccu
- Manhattan clam chowder
- Maryland crab soup
- Matzah ball soup
- Melon soup
- Menudo
- Minestrone
- Miso soup
- Miyeok guk
- Mohinga
- Mulligan Stew
- Mulligatawny
- Nettle soup
- New England clam chowder
- Okra soup
- Oxtail soup
- Palm nut soup
- Panada
- Pasta fagioli
- Pea soup
- Peanut soup
- Philadelphia Pepper Pot
- Phở
- Pickle soup
- Pork blood soup
- Pozole
- Psarosoupa
- Pumpkin
- Ramen
- Rasam
- Rawon
- Rumford's Soup
- Sambar
- Sayur Asem
- Scotch Broth
- Shark fin soup
- Seafood chowder
- She-crab soup
- Shrimp bisque
- Sliced fish soup
- Snert
- Solyanka
- Sop saudara
- Sopa de Gato
- Sour cherry soup
- Sour rye soup
- Sour soup
- Spinach soup
- Split pea
- Squash bisque
- Stone soup
- Stracciatella
- Swedish fruit soup
- Taco soup
- Talbina
- Tāng Fěn
- Tarator
- Tekwan
- Tom Yum
- Tomato bisque
- Tongseng
- Tortilla soup
- Turkey soup
- Vegetable soup
- Vichyssoise
- Vori vori
- Wedding soup
- White beef
- Wine soup
- Winter melon
- Zuppa pavese
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Who writes for this blog: Mike, I guess
What's the blog about: No fucking clue
One MIGHT say that the Sammy frat knows how to party
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Who writes for this blog: Sean
What's the blog about: philosophizing while high
Sore Thumbs
It's important to get clear what Sartre meant by humanism. Humanism is a very general term usually used to refer to any theory which puts human beings at the center of things: so for instance, the humanism of the Renaissance was characterized by a movement away from metaphysical speculation about the nature of God to a concern with the works of humanity, especially in art and literature. Humanism has the positive connotation of being humane and is generally associated with an optimistic outlook. One version of humanism that Sartre rejects as absurd is the self-congratulatory reveling in the achievements of the human race. The humanism that he endorses emphasizes the dignity of human beings; it also stresses the centrality of human choice to the creation of all values. Sartre’s existentialism also captures the optimism usually associated with humanism: despite the absence of pre-established objective values we are entirely responsible for what we become, and this puts the future of humanity in our own hands: Sartre quotes Francis Ponge approvingly—man is the future of man. Yeah boy, that shit's fucking TIGHT.
—Sean
—Sean
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Who writes for the blog: Mandy
What's the blog about: movie and music reviews from 2008
The Other Top 5 Albums of 2008
1) Dear Science, TV on the Radio
2008 was a big year for this New York freak indie rock band. Dear Science found them taking their signature dense, glitchy sound to new pop heights. It might be the biggest thing to happen to indie since Los Campesinos!
Best Tracks: Dancing Choose, Golden Age, Lover's Day
2) The Midnight Organ Fight, Frightened Rabbit
My friend Joe, who lives across the hall, calls this band "the Scottish Arcade Fire," and I think there's something to that. This is a breakout album for a band that sounds like they need it. From anthems ("I Feel Better") to life confessionals ("My Backwards Walk"), America can officially welcome this awesome rock outfit to its shores.
3) The Stand Ins, Okkervil River
Continuing to write songs to live your life to, Will Sheff and the folks of Okkervil River follows up on last year's triumph, The Stage Names, with a sequel of sorts. Like the skeleton on the cover, you'll be drunk on Sheff's tunes soon enough.
4) The Seldom Seen Kid, Elbow
Who said English rock is dead? One of the most underrated albums from across the pond might just be one of the best too. Listening to the album itself is an experience you don't want to miss.
5) Santogold, Santigold
With an aura of new wave, punk, electro, reggae, dub, and anything else you can think of, Santigold creates an album from everything and the kitchen sink. The album has really cool and fun vibe that reminds you of why you love music so much in the first place.
Honorable Mentions:
Third, Portishead
The Airing of Grievances, Titus Andronicus
The Chemistry of Common Life, Fucked Up
In Ghost Colours, Cut Copy
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Who writes for the blog: Rod and Steve, I assume
What's the blog about: a travelogue about hitchhiking across country
On the Road Again
Well, folks, it's time for another adventure. Let's see if we can get across the country hitchhiking, just like our grandparents used to do. Hey, and check it out, Joe K*** is up for the journey this time around. Let's do this!
3 comments:
You obviously have brain worms, but they are delightful brain worms.
Why am I getting texts about this in 2019?
Emily - because I'm the only loser who still blogs in 2019.
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