Amoeblog

out this week 2/10 & 2/17...

lily allen...morrissey...asobi seksu...beirut...m. ward...
lily allen it's not me it's you
It is getting to that point in the year where I am having a hard time keeping up with all the music coming out, so you really should not have that hard of a time finding new albums to listen to this month or the next. I keep finding a new favorite album but it is then overshadowed or replaced by some other album that I get obsessed with. The new Lily Allen album came out last week, and I do love it. If you already love her then go get this album. It is very different than her first album but you will love it for all the same reasons that you loved the first album. Her song writing is still that great combination of cute and brilliant and sassy. I can't really imagine liking any other singer that could get away with her lyrics, but she pulls it off. I might be throwing the word love around a bit too much, but I did fall in love with her voice the first time I listened to Alright, Still. I do also associate that album with Los Angeles. It was one of those albums that I listened to a bunch on trips to LA a couple of years ago, so it is now perfect that I am actually living in LA again for this new album. Lily Allen just has one of those catchy and cute voices that makes me smile. It is what all pop music should sound like. Perfect for those of us still obsessed with British mulily allensic and culture and a nice pop alternative. The new album is called It's Not Me It's You. She has a brilliant way of switching around some popular phrases, as she does with "Thank You Very Much," one of my favorite tracks on the album. I saw her show for the first album in San Francisco and can't wait to see her again down here. She will be playing at the Wiltern on April 2nd. The album is just as catchy as you want it to lonely island incredibadbe. It does what it sets out to do. The album is pure pop entertainment with that signature Lilly Allen feel to it. I do have a habit of loving the artists that most people either love or hate. It is the better artists that I think have this effect on us. You should love her like I do, but I will not hate you if you don't. She is for sure not for everyone.

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Posted by Brad Schelden on February 19, 2009 at 06:51pm | Post a Comment

(In which Job... well... just read it if you wanna know.)



I was enjoying my usual Wednesday afternoon – a walk to the park with a small picnic lunch. I have a favorite spot beneath a chestnut tree with sprawling branches which remind me of my Dad’s strong arms and how they seemed to be able to do anything – swing an axe, knock a ball out of the park, bruise the side of my face and neck for forgetting to put the lid back on the jelly jar…

Anyway, I sat in my favorite spot and began my standard ritual: eating the first half of my baloney sandwich, sipping a strawberry Crush soda-pop, and crying. Just crying. Sobbing uncontrollably, like, to the point where even the homeless people look at me with faces that say, “Man, that dude has it bad.”

But don’t be fooled! I wasn’t sad. It was the book I was reading – it always makes me cry. Not because it’s about bone marrow cancer (it’s actually pretty upbeat and the recipes are not only delicious but good for those of us on a tight budget!). No, the reason it makes me cry is because its pages are made out of paper-thin sheets of glass which cut my hands horribly. Oh gosh, I mean, it really hurts. And the bloodier the pages become the slipperier it gets and it’s hard to get through a chapter without passing out from pain.

Did you know that if you pass out in the park people will leave you coins in your strawberry Crush soda-pop can? This is why I have hope for humanity.

But last Wednesday, something unusual happened to my usual routine. I was passed out under the tree (though not from injuries – this time it was because I had sniffed a freshly picked plumeria, only to discover that it was actually a tank of methoxyflurane) and was brought back to consciousness by a young man performing CPR on me. (For those of you who don’t know what CPR is, it’s a thing.)

Posted by Job O Brother on November 18, 2007 at 03:26pm | Post a Comment

(In which Job returns from [kind of a] vacation.)



Honey! I’m home…!

[Kiss.]

Whew! It is crazy hot here in Hollywood. How have you survived? I’m this close to envying the Donner Party.

[Sets luggage down.]

Where have I been? Didn’t you see the Post-It note I left on our autographed portrait of Gunnar de Frumerie?

No?

What do you mean you were struck blind by the Lord Our God while traveling the Road to Damascus? Are you crazy?

Yes, I know Labor Day traffic on I-5 is maddening, but I hardly think a detour through Syria was good idea. And anyhow, I wrote the note in Braille, so that’s no excuse for not reading it.

[Takes off shoes and unbuttons shirt.]

Anyway, I don’t want to fight.

I’ve been in Santa Barbara over the weekend. I was at a wedding for some of Corey’s friends. It was hot there, too, but at least we were on the coast, so it was beautiful.

Oh, a funny thing happened that continues a strange theme in my recent blogs. One of the humans attending the wedding was Octavia Spencer – a total sparkplug, very quick with the one-liners – and, as she was introduced to my small group, she lowered her sunglasses at me and said:

“Whoa! You have some pretty eyes! Hoo!”

Which makes two times this week that an obscure female comedian has commented on my optical globes. I know, right? What exactly are my pheromones excreting? Too funny.

Posted by Job O Brother on September 4, 2007 at 11:31am | Comments (3)

Li'l Bit #3

Last Thursday, as I was casually filing away recordings of stand-up comedians, both famous and obscure, I was approached by a sparkling, blond woman with glimmering, gold eyeshadow, who, in a squeaky voice asked me for help with some classical music.

It was Victoria Jackson.

She and I briefly discussed our preferences in both romanticism and choral compositions over a few recordings of Fauré.

I am almost never star-struck, and even less inclined to vocalize awareness-of-identity to a celebrity. You could call it respect, but a more accurate term would be pride. However, after she thanked me and turned to go, I said:

"Before you leave, I have to tell you that I'm a fan."

She smiled and said, in that trademark voice, "Oh, thank you. You have really pretty eyeballs."
Posted by Job O Brother on August 28, 2007 at 10:43am | Comments (1)

(I vilket författaren diskuterar hans favoritt direktör.)



Today is Ingmar Bergman’s birthday!

I know – you’re ready to leap from the computer to rush out to buy a piñata and cake.

Or, more likely, you re-read the above sentence a couple times as your brain grappled with confusion over whether or not I wrote Ingrid Bergman. Quite possibly, some of you still think I did.


Actress Ingrid Bergman, star of "Casablanca" and the Bergman film "Autumn Sonata";
no relation to the director and much better looking in a dress.

I’m not being (intentionally) condescending; it’s just that that’s what seems to happen every time I gush about my most favorite film director.

Fellini, Buñuel, Pasolini, Hitchcock, Godard, Woody Allen… There are many film directors that cause me to go weak in the superego, but none of them so deeply penetrate my soul and slop it on the screen like ol’ Ingmar.

Furthermore, many of his films star his ex-wife and one of my favorite actresses, Liv Ullman.


Liv Ullman looking ravishing as she has a nervous breakdown in "Persona"

I’m the first to admit that his films aren’t for everyone. They’re an intimidating option when considering an evening’s entertainment. When faced with “what to do”, who in their right mind would subject themselves to a somber, cryptic and psychologically penetrating film in which handsome Swedes come to grips with their innermost core-of-self amidst Midnight Sun landscapes?

Posted by Job O Brother on July 14, 2007 at 08:23am | Comments (1)
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