That was the month that was: February in Music and more (and ramblings)

So there I was, taking the last week of February off to have a mighty fine 29th February and then I get a dentist’s appointment. What a great day to end any month. However, while I was waiting I got to read a good article about the depressing state of the American economy and the dwindling middle-class and even got another appointment in a couple of weeks that will cost me money – I couldn’t see Steve Martin in a black wig but I am quite sure he was behind all this.

Anyways, February was not the most adventurous month on a musical level because I was knee-deep into the Maccabees album and the preparation for the interview, so I mainly ignored all those pretty albums on Spinner, in my mail account and at work.

But a couple of bands still made it through, first of all the sensationally breezy “Be the void” by Dr. Dog which reminded me why 60s/70s rock is one of the best references for bands nowadays and with that I mean bands that are creative enough to make their own thing out of those classic rock heroes. “Be the void” is colourful and I yearn for spring and summer whenever I hear it, I don’t know why but the number of albums that just put me in a good mood is not very high in my collection (what the hell is wrong with me?). So, thanks Dr. Dog you might be the reason I won’t get too depressed in the next couple of months.

(I remember their drummer Eric Slick as Paul Green School of Rock member, he once wrote me a list of his band tips and this one year he wore a weird working jumpsuit and drummed on a wooden bench. Many many years ago he had the biggest Rock’n Roll hair I’ve ever seen and sunglasses that referenced every 70s porn ever made – he really is one of the coolest dudes)

Apart from the bands of the last couple of posts, I want to give a shout out to Crippled Black Phoenix who did a massive double album that is a monster of Prog-proportions that demands nothing but 100% of your attention and gives you a major music-boner in return. Sorry, I wanted to write something inspiring and then this profanity came out, it’s very late and I already spent all my awe and lyrical finesse on the Robert Jones text (yes, I don’t necessarily publish texts in the order I wrote them in).

Speaking of Robert Jones:

The last time I was so surprised by the awesomeness of a band (and I don’t count The Maccabees here because I knew that their album would be stellar) was with True Widow – another band from Texas (weird…). I just know that I will obsess over them for quite a while now and I hope I don’t alienate all my friends, family and colleagues by mentioning them way too often. And boy do I hope that I don’t get drunk and get a tattoo of their band portrait or something weird like that (have you seen tattoos of photographs? They always look uncanny valley-esque).

(I could tattoo that youtube-link on my shoulder, though, or even more classy, my cleavage)

Ok, so musically, pretty much all my favourites were posted here, what else happened?

Books and stuff

I am still reading George R.R. Martin but I am a little stuck with the third book. Not because it’s not brilliant anymore but my short attention span is fading away, it’s like a balloon in the wind.

At some point I also want to tackle “Extremely loud…” by Foer because the movie will be out soon and I hate reading the book after watching the movie (somehow I like the inevitable disappointment of a bad adaption). It’s lying there next to my bed, mocking me with the 5th page open which is how much I read two months ago. Still, that’s more than Foer’s “eating animals” which I haven’t touched once after someone got it for me. Why would anyone do that to me? All people I know converted to vegetarianism or even veganism after they read it. I hate missionary crap like handing out books that grossly describe how my burger meat is being made. If I ever read it, though, I will definitely write about my experience which then will turn people off reading Jonathan Safran Foer and/or vegan literature. HA!

My favourite Vintage band of the month (just had to look up what ridiculous bullet points I had for this redundant piece of babbling which I call “that was the month that was”) will actually be the favourite Vintage band of next month because I only today (which is February the 29th) stumbled over The Black Crowes with “Soul Singing” and decided that I really need to listen to their catalogue.

(this is from 2001? This sounds so much like the early 90s…)

And my favourite bit of every recap: The invention of the month.

To be quite honest, I am not sure I have one. No wait, how about this – I have this really cool dynamo flashlight (it’s for kids and therefore shaped like a panda and I would fight everyone to the death who would want to steal it from me) and I thought that a dynamo for mobile phones would be a real life safer. Just something you attach to your phone (and please not just on smartphones, I don’t have one and until my lamo oldschool phone doesn’t get smashed on one of my famous drunken rampages, I won’t buy one). Then you just wind it up and there you go. I recently got lost on the way to a meeting with a friend and my mobile’s battery was low and I was already so late that in my mind our friendship already was over because I was such a horrible friend and I really could have needed the battery-dynamo. Although…thinking about it, this might be more a problem of my social anxiety than the low battery.

(and all that happened while I was wearing my burned marshmallow costume, can you imagine how hard it was to squeeze into the tram twice with this headgear? A nightmare, I tell you and everyone wanted to pour hot cocoa over me)

Gasp – I just looked and they already have a dynamo charger! Ok guys, who owns a time machine in the future, drove back to read this entry and to  steal the idea of the battery charger and then went back even further into time to produce it? Well, guess what, the patent-stealing-time-machine is the actual invention of this month, ha, fooled ya!

To end this thing: 

It’s half past one in the morning and Robert Jones’ psychedelic awesomeness is stirring in my mind, I am very sorry if this entry was hella weird, it’s probably because the language flip (oh yeah, that happened this month) also let some of the bad creativity lose. You know which one I mean, the one that causes you to write a 90 page long short story about a homeless inventor during WW2 who lives in the Netherlands and who discovers a U.F.O. You write this story from 2am till 5am in the morning after you drank 6 cans of Red Bull (or Mate as we Berlin hipsters like to do) and your head hurts. You will read the story afterwards and will be so embarrassed that your brain is able to create such utter trite that you immediately burn all 90 pages and never think of them again. But then you remember that you are Night Shyamalan and that bad creativity is what has made you lots and lots of money in the past decade and therefore you chuck down 12 more cans of red bull and get going again…

(get it? I am so funny!)


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