Sorry this week's page is so friggin' late, guys. You see, first there was the Starving Artists update, and then I had to draw this page while simultaneously packing up for a big college-search trip around the American South with my family and the dog. At this very momentm I am typing this in a dark hotel room in Garden City, Georgia, with a very pissed-off and tired sister in the bed behind me. I mustn't dally here.
In fact, I have so little time that I can only give you very short reviews of two CDs I purchased for the trip. They Might Be Giant's 1996 release Factory Showroom is considered by many to be the group's best release, and while it doesn't reach the hyper-infectiousness and plethora of styles that, say, The Spine does, it still provides both elements in great quantities, plus a good deal of rockitude that I've only found present before in TMBG's live show (excellent– if they come to your town, SEE THEM). It's a great introduction to the wonder that is They Might Be Giants. …On the other hand, The Decemberists' The Crane Wife is extremely emotional– not emo; we're not talking about "nyaah, nobody invited me to the homecoming dance" sort of emotion, we're talking heavy-duty "woe is I, for my husband has been run through by a Yankee bayonet while I carry his child" sort of despair– that, being the Dec.ists' major-label debut, has a lot more resources and conceptual elements mixed into it. I can't say I've totally warmed to it yet (it's a little too sprawling and proggy, and it's missing the handful of funky, upbeat tunes that Picaresque had– "The Sporting Life", "16 Military Wives"– to punctuate the misery. Though "O Valencia!" sure has embedded itself in my brain), but usually Dec.ists records take a few listens to get accustomed to. They're an acquired taste, like sushi or cowboy boots. Check 'em out if you dare.
More updates on the college trip thing as it develops. (I know I'm forgetting to talk about something here, but I can't imagine WHAT. I'm sure it'll come to me tomorrow morning…) As for now, I've got to go to bed. Until next time, dear readers, stay hot! Like this guy!
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