New Year Dreamin' With Jill Sobule

Kicking myself.

Don't you hate it when you accidentally buy the clean version of an album?

Like substituting tofu for burger meat.



ew. it's just not the same. only bacon could make this edible.

So today's lesson: no matter how excited you are about your xmas cash, ALWAYS DOUBLE CHECK YOUR CART.

Now I just hafta start off this, my Second Blog Post, with a big

to homocidal crazies.

First Sandy Hook. Kids. I'd just stopped thinking about it. Then some asshat thinks it's fun to light up his house and then shoot the firefighters. Seriously? Firefuckingfighters?

Both shootings seem like pathetic little "fuck you"s to the human race. They don't even have the twisted logic of hate crimes. I found myself listening to Where is the Love (great song) on Christmas night. But I could think of so many better ways for these men to die than by their own bullets. The love ain't here.

Some people fight fires. Some monsters set them.
I'm no expert. But if you, reader, have ever felt the urge to go out with a bang, I hope you shoot yourself first.

Bah humbug...

...However.
'tis the season to cherish what you have, not fume and fuss about dead people. So here's to my high school friends I haven’t seen and spoken to in so long, classier folks I have yet to meet. Fire fighters, every one.

That's me upfront in the tie & white shirt - not making an interesting face. You wacky funsters!

 

I had fun with family too, xmas day. Everyone's doing really well, my uncle got a Japanese puppy-dog that looks like a fox, and food (mmm! real good food) and I beat my sis and my cousin at pool.

No way I was beating my mother, though.

I love this time of year. It's always held the best opportunities to kickback with new albums I got over Christmas and space out.

Today's jam is an emotive ballad/jam thingy – it's acoustic, it's dreamy, it's fun – something with which to space out and fly away with. I guess you'd call it rock, with a hint of folk.
It's sung by this space cadet/talented Colorado singer/songwriter, Jill Sobule.
I like her voice because it's breathy and sweet. She sounds like a little kid describing her imaginary friend.

Look at that mischievous smile – such a bad girl, doing cray shit like crosswords. You go, underdog! Be victorious!

Seriously, Underdog's a great album, and it always will be. It's full of upbeat beats and sass, which contrasts interestingly with its treatment of sad subjects like bullying, homophobia, prostitution, and show business.

She may sound like rebellious teen singing alone while speeding through town in her parents car, a sound on which I think she may rely a bit too heavily, but Jill's always had my respect. You should hear what she had to say about that Katy Perry. Haha...

You can be a popstar, you can make your bisexual rock 100% sassy and sadness-free, but you'll get boring fast, Katy. It's too simple, my dear.

Oh, right. Fine voice, fine bod, and you've got your love songs that never lose their popularity... Nevermind. Carry on, Katy!

I still like Jill.
Where was I? Ah yes!
About to take off with Jetpack, by Jill Sobule:

(Follow the link above to youtube and follow along below!)

If I had a jetpack the first thing that I would do
Is fly above the gridlock and come to you
I'd peek into the windows on 5th ave.
to see how the other side lives

And if I had a jetpack I would strap it on
I'd get out of this one room and I'd be gone
To where they're real houses and big front lawns
If I had a jetpack

I'd take you up with me
at last we'd both be free, past the

statue of liberty
In my jetpaaaaaaaaaaaaaack

If I had a jetpack, I'd fly over the bridge
I'd wave to all my friends who thought I'd never rise again
I'd fly over the stadium to watch my team win

watch my team win...
And if I had a jetpack, I'd bust into your door
and take you by the hand to the Jersey shore
and underneath the moonlight, you'd want me even more
cause, I'd have a jetpack

I'd take you up so high
If I dropped you, you would die
but I want you by my side,

in my jetpaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack

Oh I don't have a jetpack. I don't even have a car
I just have this token and a head full of stars
I wish you didn't live up town so far
cause I don't have

no I don't have

a jet... paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack
 

That last, lingering note! Agh, that's the killer. It can still bring a tear to my eye. By drawing out that “pack”, fading it out wistfully like that, Jill sounds like she's trying to hold onto the dream.

cooooool...

The song is carried by her slightly nasal, slightly reedy voice, while a quiet guitar carries the sweet tune to it's finale, where some Deep Strings (cello, perhaps?) and Dramatic Violins enter, and her voice gets all strained and sad.

Her dreamer in the song is in a low place – she wants to be able to fly away from it all, impress her friends and sweep her crush off his/her(?) feet. Literally.

Guess we all have superpower dreams. Here's to the unrealistic ones. Crazy as they may be, you gotta love 'em.

Soon, after our festivities celebrating the death of the past year, we'll have to face the responsibilities new year, and we'll get it done. With or without a jetpack.

But wouldn't it be SO MUCH easier with one?

If I had a jetpack, you wouldn't catch me messing around at some boring ball game, no siree. I'd go to do seriously fun shit.

What would you do with a jetpack? What song should be next? Were it up to you... (it was so hard to chose, but this is fun!)

And happy 2013!

To 2012:

just got wierd/real - welcome to the blahg

Ever get high off a song?
Something that really grabs you by the brain, pulls you in, dunks it in tubs filled with emotion, all the while singing to you a meaning that resonates deeply with you.
Inexplicable sensations course through yourbody - it's not the bass (although crank it up if you can, by all means).
Suddenly, you are not merely listening to the song.

You are the song.
Your environment dissolves around you (nbd your eyes were probably closed by this point anyway) and you are transported, in all senses of the word.
You are both the subject and the singer of the lyrics - your performance is effortless because it's your life. That rythm is your natural hearbeat.

Ms. Dynamite knows what I'm talking about.

This is what I like to call narcissistic audiophilia.

If you can relate, then we are not casual listeners, my friend.
We may look strange (Dude, did you just jizz yourself there? why are your eyes so wide? You're freaking me out.) but we don't care.

 Does a junkie care about what others think when he's got his jones?

For a hours of awesomeness, we indulge our ears, transcend ourselves and we are free.

Hi. My name is KJ Trujillo. No relation to the late dictator of the Dominican Republic.
I'm a student, currently studying communications at UC San Diego. I'm starting out my career with a little writing gig on their music magazine.
I've been thinking: why not the kick off the new year with something new?
It hit me immediately: a blog! [yes]
Can it really be that hard?
At this point, I may lose people with shorter attentions spans, and I'm not even close to making a point. But that's ok! I'm just gonna have fun with it, find my writing style, brush up on my edititing skills... Journalism here I come!

(I know this is a long post bear with me please, ima have to do a lot of introductory shit I won't have to do in the future)

You know how people say "I love all music I don't discriminate"? That's bullshit.
I guarantee you, you look at the songs they listen to eryday and they'll be on one or two genres.
So yeah, maybe they love all music, but they neglect most of it.
I won't bs you - I admit - I do this too.
Instrumental, Hip-hop, jazz, R&B, for the most part. And ON MY OWN, NEVER TO BE HEARD IN PUBLIC,
iplaygansterrap.

I know! I know I'm white I know I'm near-broke and in college (redundant?) and the closest thang thing I have to a crew are my study buddies who are mostly asians and don't even know kung fu.

I just like the stuff, dammit.
But I know I'm not alone! There are people making habits of genre. As internet users, the world's music is at our fingertips. There's no excuse!
So back to the point: We, as a people, need to get away from our tastes. They are trapping us into a box full of pigeonholes!
You know what else gets stuck in pidgeon holes...

Feathery little pidgeon cocks.

What better way to espcape this ticklish fate than to plunge into a morrass of amatuer musical analysis and ignorant opinions with me as your shadowy guide from the internets?
(probably a better way to phrase this - edit out later)

I'll expose you to new sounds, whether we like it or not. I'll zizag across the topography of the musical world like friggin Took on a handpainted map.

I'll bring you the best (again, my opinion) of a new genre and hybrid sound every week at about this time, and dissect it messily all over this page until you're sick of it or I get bored.

But that'll never happen. The wonder of music never ends!

Wow, nice drawing. I won't credit anything - it's all google images. But some girl named Luna I think did this. Good for her!

I don't expect you to like what you hear all the time. That would be silly.
But what's sillier is listening to the same shit over and ove again until you wear it out!
Who knows? Maybe whatever floats your yellow submarine is the same as what floats mine.
You never know until you go.

Todays chartbuster (I have my own mental charts) The Herbaliser - Who's the Realest - Instrumental brings together several of my favorite genres: jazz, rap, and big band. This is an instrumental version of what's actually a very good song. I found it on Spotify and was an instant fan.

The Herbaliser is a London-based rap/jazz duo born around the same time as me ('93).
Looked that up on good old wikipedia... But I should have guessed from the "s" instead of "z" in Herbaliser -
I guess that makes it jass... Jass init? D'you ge'it? Bloody brilliant laugh that, eh? C'mon mates!

Ok, enough, now you're just being a prick. (but what if it's really spelled "pizz"?)

Back to Who's the Realest.
This song sounds dangerous. You're transported to a car chase, and if you're a cop, you're the bad cop. You're in the middle of a daring heist - and the loot is your own soul.
The odd off-key note, as David Arnold understands, adds tension and a sense of badassitude (oh yeah and I make up adjectives from time to time) to a piece, especially with deeper horns or strings.
This song has the iconicity of the James Bond theme or even that of the Incredibles (have you ever noticed how similar they sound? but I like how much jazzier the Incredibles is)

It's basically been my theme msuic while studying for finals last week.

badass studying theme song + finals = success.

Trippy synths add to the edge on this bad boy, but don't dominate the sound. I HATE IT WHEN THE SYNTHS ARE TOO BIG! ITS LIKE TYPING ONE'S PARENTHETICAL OPINIONS ALL IN CAPS! (parentheticalized comments are annoying enough, right?)
The odd off note, as James Horner understands, adds tension and a sense of badassitude (oh yeah and I make up adjectives from time to time) to a piece.

Snatches of echoey lyric make their way into the background. "Who's the realest?" is all I can hear.
Which makes the task of analyzing the lyrics quite simple. I figure start small, right? (Maybe someday I could tackle Bohemian Rhapsody)
Two words plus a contraction, so like two and a half. "Who's" and "the" are fairly self-explanatory, so lest move to "realest".
The asker of this question and song title clearly believes that he is "the realest".
But what does this mean?
Everyone's real - made of flesh and blood and not mythical.

Even those who are often exasperatingly literal, like myself.
Or are we?

Reality is truth. It's a catchier way of saying "who is truest to his/her ideals?"
The answer is supplied by the asker: IT'S ME! THIS GUY! - and yet, in asking, he is seeking confirmation of his "reality".
Why would such a confident person do that?

There is an old saying, passed down through the generations of Proffesional Sports. Grandmaster NFL teaches that "the fan's make the game".
In some respects, this is true. That's what brought Tinkerbell back to life: applause! NFL players are no different.

Well the differences are minor.
No one vows to discover an new continent, sailsover to it and says quitely "Wow that's cool." and then leaves.
They're all "Look at me! I found that shit! I'm the king of the new world, behold, I bring you guns and stds!"

Fuck you Columbus. October 14th is Che Guevarra Day to me!

Ultimately, we seek acknowledgement that we are true to ourselves. Without it, without the people with which we surround ourselves, what are we?

We long to hear the roar of the crowd. To be recognized by others as real makes us real- or reality is thus dependent and not our own.

Desiring confirmation of our awesomenes - that's narcissism.  Soaking in the roar of the crowd - that's audiophilia. That's why I love to lose myself in music - unforgetable music, with the power to make me laugh or cry or both.
If you've never experienced this high, you'll benefit from my wisdom.
If you have, you'll still get to laugh at my lack thereof!
And I get to write/ramble. It's a win win.

So my advise is this: enjoy time with your family this holiday season, but make sure you take the necessary time to plug your headphones in and zone out. Youth's too short not to squander a lil bit.

(Any tips on making this blahg less "blah" and more "aw fawk yiss", please, do share! Also, suggestions on next week's song/artist? They can't be on playing on the radio, but must be awesome)
Hope to see you next week.
Keep it real!