Tis the Season

We here in cpsland hope you all had a great Thanksgiving and are enjoying the beginning of the crazy, fun holiday season. We are in the midst of our traditional holiday launch leaving me considerably off-line although there is some activity over at the Brothers K for family and friends.

Hope all are safe and warm--back soon with some recommendations for musical gifts from this year!

12 Stages of Conference Speaking

The Sales Job: This is where someone tells you about this session at a conference and how they need someone who has the knowledge and expertise on this ever so complex topic and the only person they could think of was you. “It has to be you. Will you present at our conference?”

“Aw, thanks, I mean, okay, sure” (blush, foot shuffle).

Denial: Stage two immediately ensues and you forget that you have agreed to present.

Mild Irritation: Stage three involves suddenly realizing that a dark cloud has been forming over you and you realize you have been touchy and mildly irritated and you are not sure why until you remember that you have agreed to present at this conference which is only a week a way and you have not done anything to prepare.

Deep Denial: Despite the conference only being a week away you manage to suppress thinking about it under the rationalization that you have far too many pressing things that must get done first.

A Bout of Professionalism: The presentation is only three days a way now and really, it is time to act like the professional you are. So you begin to pull together your notes, check on information, look for new data, but really you have three days yet.

Panic: One day out and it is definitely go time. The reality that you will be in front of folks the next day drives you to get finally it together (kind of).

The Mirror Stage: You present in the next few hours and while you have lots on paper, you really have not said a word out loud and it feels like you are about to deliver the most boring lecture in the world. Yes, it is embarrassing, but you realize that if you don’t practice this thing, you are never going to figure out how to say what you want to say and not be a rambling idiot. So you close the door and give that bad boy a run through which of course leads to frantic revision.

The Jumanji Stage: As you head to the presentation, you begin to invent possible scenarios by which you still will not have to present: A blackout perhaps? Or maybe all conference attendees got food poisoning at lunch? Or perhaps someone was playing Jumanji in the building and the room you are presenting in was overrun by wild animals and no one dares return!

Acceptance: You arrive, no natural catastrophe of fantasy stampede has occurred and there are, in fact, people there to hear what you have to say. You are introduced and now there is nothing to do but accept what you have done and must do.

Schizophrenia: You begin and realize that this is not actually anything that is really all that challenging. You are surprised that people have, in fact, chuckled at the jokes and seem engaged in what you are saying. Then, suddenly, you realize that you are thinking about the fact that you are presenting at the same time that you are presenting which then makes you worried that you are not saying what you think you are and now there is a third layer of meta going on . . . breathe, present.

Relief and Resale: Presentation over and, suddenly, all is better with the world. “That was a great talk, I can’t thank you enough. We could really use you at our conference, do you think you could present for us in a couple of months?”

“Aw, thanks, I mean, okay, sure” (blush, foot shuffle).

The Walkmen Getting it (Really) Together

For the last several weeks, while this blog has been silent on the matter of music, several discs have been receiving significant listening time here in cpsland, but none has been listened to as much as the latest effort by The Walkmen. Lisbon, which actually came out earlier this fall, is, in this writer’s humble opinion, the best album this band has released to date.

Now some will disagree on the grounds that this album has continued down a path the band has been taking toward slower, sparser, and quieter tunes. True, this album is no Bows and Arrows in terms of rock intensity, but many of the same qualities are still present, just toned down and more nuanced. The songs have more variation and textures, more space and ultimately are more lyrical.

When I first wrote about The Walkmen, I explained that I simply did not get them at first, in part because lead singer Hamilton Leithauser’s approach seemed to always be slightly off—off tune, off tempo—unconnected with the driving music underneath. It was accepting that tension between vocals and music that was key to coming to appreciate what the band was doing.

That tension is still there to a certain extent on Lisbon, but it only in your face here and there on rockers like the opening song “Angela Surf City”—which Pitchfork reviewer Tom Breihan puts on the top of the heap of Walkmen songs with “The Rat” and “In the New Year”. More often, that tension is resolving as many of the songs on Lisbon are crafted with the vocals wholly integrated into the song and Leithauser’s singing is simply beautiful (all the while maintaining his edgy, flat. slacker sound).

That is most clear on the back end of the album which slows down with each song. Who would have ever thought these guys would have a song called “Torch Song” (which is actually sung at the pace of a torch song)? They do—and, in fact, they seem to be getting comfortable in this new skin. As Leithauser’s sings in “While I Shovel the Snow,”

For now I’ll take my time
For now, I can’t be bothered . . .
There is no life like the snow life

That can only mean one thing. There next album is going to be a blazin’ rocker.

Until then, I highly recommend this album with it mix of mid-tempo rockers and slow burners—I predict it will be one that you come back to repeatedly. For samples, I was tempted to give you the closing title track which is a great reflection on the everyday and then that wonderful opening rocker (allowing you to enjoy that wonderful disc-replay- rollover), but decided on two others.

First up is a “Blue as Your Blood” which perhaps reflects best all the band’s talk about the album being influenced by early Sun Record recordings, but more importantly is a great example of the sparseness of many of these songs which also maintain their unique mix of guitar, drums and vocals. And then, I couldn’t help but share that “Torch Song” in which the band seeks a song to slow down all the madness. Leithauser moans that he doesn’t know that song, but, of course we are listening to it.

Blues As Your Blood
Torch Song

Go buy the album.

Someone Is Trying to Tell Me Something

I have written before about my experiences with movies on planes and the not so subtle messages they seem to send to parents who travel for work. So, today as I left my family to fly to the west coast (again) for work I thought someone was trying to protect me when it became apparent that the headsets in our row didn't work so we would not be able to listen and therefore watch the in-flight movie. Just as well, I was deep into reading Spooner by Pete Dexter. But then I started running into passages like these:

Spooner delivered the town's morning newspapers, beginning two hours before school and in the winter it was often still dark when he finished. Once in a while a garage door would open as he walked past, and he would stop and watch as the car slowly emerged, the wife behind the wheel . . . driving the breadwinner off to the train station. Most everybody worked in Chicago, twenty-odd miles to the northeast. The husbands . . . stared poker-faced out the car windows as their wives backed out of the driveway, expressions deadened into some joyless exhaustion . . . as if the world had been drained of taste and color and even the notion of escape.

Out on the [baseball] field, a boy with an enormous head was laying a fresh chalk line . . .Calmer [the father] thought it wouldn't be such a bad thing to lay chalk lines. He was catching himself at this all the time lately, picturing himself trading jobs, usually for some kind of work that would be finished for the day when it was finished for the day, that would leave him time to rest and read. Other jobs, other lives. It was strange how often it came up.

Perhaps I will try the movie on the way back.

Friday Haiku

Chilled and damp, the leaves
drift down toward fall's end--shiver
What will winter bring