"Hey Hermano!" & Other Spanish Tales From The Conquistador

Geez freakin’ Louise.  It’s already July?  Well knock me sideways and call me annoying southern idiom.  Where does the time go?  Is it where the cowboys went?  Sorry, AV Club has been doing some 90’s nostalgia and I couldn’t help but indulge.  It’s so amazing how defensive people get over music.  The article was “A Tribute To Terrible Late ‘90s Hits” and it was popular.  Excuse me, is popular.  That baby is almost up to 1000 comments.  That’s just nuts.  Music is such an opinion-based medium, more so than books or television or movies.  You can point to a bad plot or terrible dialogue all you want but you still can’t argue against the use of a well-placed G chord.  Music attaches itself to your consciousness, capturing whatever emotion you were feel when the song invades your space.  That’s the exact reason I’m getting into this business.

Since it’s been over a week since my last post, I thought it was about time.  I still haven’t recapped my Coldplay/Today Show experience yet.  If you are reading this, chances are I’ve already told you about it anyway.  I got up at 4am to arrive to Rockefeller Plaza at 5am to a line literally already around the block.  People camped out.  Regardless, I made it into the official area and waited.  They actually came out around 7am to start soundchecking.  They did that off and on with all the songs they would later play.  I heard “Clocks” about four times too many, meaning they played it four times.  Would anyone really be upset never to hear that song again?  “Viva La Vida” was splashed through three times, same as “Lost!”  “In My Place” reared its head twice.  And the best was “42” which they played once at the end of the broadcast.  That song is the piece.  I love it.  Oh, and they also did an acoustic, stripped-down “Yellow” solely for us poor losers who got up too early.  Chris Martin is a fun guy and he never appeared sluggish, joking with the crowd and everyone’s favorite demons on earth, the paparazzi.  Did anyone even know that word existed before Princess Di’s death?  I sure didn’t.  Of course, I wasn’t too keen on things since we were watching Dante’s Peak at the time.  Ugh, watch those movies today and try not to cringe.  Volcano, Armageddon, Independence Day, and Twister.  They’re all awful.  Anyway, Coldplay was a fun time.

Now, the crowd was not a fun time.  I haven’t been surrounded by this many obnoxious people since high school.  Groups of 16-year-old girls (and by 16-year-old girls I mean polo-popping 19-year-old guys) going, “Ok on the count of three...1…2…3!  Play 'The Scientist'!"  Oh, right.  I forget.  They’re going to take requests on live TV.  In that case, “Play 'Spies'!"  Yeah, you wouldn’t dare.  That song didn’t make you what you are today.  Trash it.  Man, am I cynical or what?  I’m just getting started.  I love the Youtube Generation, I really do, but put your dang cameras down!!!  As soon as a guitar was plugged in, BAM!, everybody and their crummy camera phone was hoisted high in the air like some weird ritual sacrifice to the Can-You-Hear-Me-Now? Guy.  That takes away anybody’s chance of seeing what is going on. I don’t want to watch it later in a four inch box, I want to see it now!  

I was up right against the barricaded aisle and Chris Martin came running that gauntlet.  Everybody pushed like there was no tomorrow and I was fine, but the girl behind me wasn’t.  She was getting her toenail bent back and letting everyone kindly know that it would be mighty fine of them to back up slowly.  No, that wasn’t the case.  The sad part was when she was free from the lethal pain she started crying not from said lethal pain, but because in her dire situation she managed to touch Martin.  Disgusting. 

To cleanse the palate, I decided to shun humanity and catch WALL-E by myself since ‘ol Kevin stood me up.  That’s right, I’m typing at you, kid.  What a brilliant film.  This one is worth thirty bucks.  Is Pixar ever going to phone it in and make a sucky movie?  Cars was the worst but it was still better than seventy-five percent of the dreck that was released that year.  WALL-E is gorgeously plotted, animated, and brazen.  You think you were just going to watch a robot clean up earth for two hours?  That’s equivalent to tuning in to LOST prepared for an hour of gathering firewood.  No, with WALL-E you get a heart-wrenching love story with an in-your-face message to boot.  But, it doesn’t shove that message down your throat a la Al Gore.  I don’t care what you think of animated films, if you don’t adore this movie you have no soul.  I’m serious.  Jessika, now I’m typing at you.

So what else is going on?  Not too much.  Fourth of July coming up. USA! USA! USA! 

On the music front, I’ve gotten overloaded at Bank Robber.  I took home seventeen CDs the other day.  In the minimal time I’ve spent with them so far, one really stands out: Frightened Rabbit.  They’ve been a critical darling the past few months and I knew about them but never desired to check them out.  It’s amazing what free does for you.  It’s their sophomore release, The Midnight Organ Fight, that is sending me in flips.  It’s just great indie-rock with tinges of folk and country.  I like it because it’s not afraid to drive it a little.  I love some swells and speed-ups and guitar swirls.  They do it, and they do it well.  Check it out. 

That concludes our broadcast day.  I’ll be back sooner before longer. 

Til next time, baby birds.

- Chase