Entropy Reigns (Pearson and Usher’s Second Law Dynamix) by Kelley Polar which clocks in at 8:30.
Above video created using footage shot at the Mystic Aquarium & Institute for Exploration.
Buy Entropy Reigns EP on Amazon.
EAR FARM’s 8+ is a weekly feature that showcases songs longer than 8 minutes. Click HERE to see the songs recently featured in EF’s 8+.
“The Choisest View” by Modern English which clocks in at 11:40. Read more…
“Hurricane” by Bob Dylan which clocks in at 8:33.
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“Apparition et scène de Myrtha” composed by Adolphe Adam, performed by Wiener Philharmoniker (with Herbert von Karajan conducting) which clocks in at 11:42.
I don’t understand many things. And if you don’t mind, I’ll skip the witty culturally referential starter course list of some of them and get right to the matter at hand: I don’t get people who situate themselves as “music lovers” but yet won’t venture within 100 yards of anything classical, jazz, or generally made outside of North America and Europe - the so called “world music”. If anything, this music of the world is what gets a passing listen from most of these music lovers as they gobble up offerings from artists such as Vieux Farka Toure, Konono No. 1, Dengue Fever, Youssou N’Dour, Os Mutantes, and the like based solely upon critical hype that’s resulted from the records being reviewed in publications that cover pop, rock, country, R&B, and hip-hop. Read more…
“Nobody Girl” by Ryan Adams which clocks in at 9:40.
How many different Ryan Adams have you seen? Read more…
“Rio Bravo” by Brian Wilson which clocks in at 8:16.
Brian Wilson’s reclamation of his own legacy over the past five years has been nothing short of remarkable. Pop music’s very own Lazarus, the man who even 40 years ago just wasn’t made for these times now seems busier than ever. He’s simply unstoppable, working at a frenzied pace that rivals even his most manic era of musical immersion from back in the day. Read more…
“Money For Nothing” by Dire Straits which clocks in at 8:26.
There are very few songs that initiate a reflexive response within me similar to the old York Peppermint Pattie commercials (”When I bite into a York Peppermint Pattie, I get the cool sensation of ___”); and for those who are often in my company, I’d consider this a very good thing. The induced reaction I’ve had in the past to certain songs by Rush, Metallica, Led Zeppelin, and Black Sabbath is equal parts repressed metalhead and untamed Woodwose. It’s something best enjoyed from a distance, like Amy Winehouse, Cleveland, or the Duke lacrosse team. If you’re interested in witnessing the behavior for yourself, the best bet would be to have someone record the phenomenon on videotape so you can enjoy it later on YouTube. In fact, the resulting air guitaring alone has been known to cause minor injuries including (but not limited to) Read more…
“The Past Is A Grotesque Animal” by Of Montreal which clocks in at 11:53
Rome: 1992. We met in the garden. Among daisies and lillies and bumble bees and fountains made of sculptures of adorable fat little child angels and dozens of loud American high school students on holiday; only a small portion of which were themselves fat little children. Even with their ridiculously loud clothing, unconscionably loud mouths, and ‘hopefully I won’t get mugged’ fanny packs, these were our peers. Each of them was like us, but so much more obvious about their vexed malcontent.
There you were with your Public Image Ltd. t-shirt and belt buckle that screamed Texas. There I was with a hundred lines of poetry running through my mind and a camera pointed squarely in the face of each statue that came my way. Statues are so much easier to photograph than people, and friendlier too. I turned away as you walked by the first time, still able to see enough of you to catch passions just like mine hidden behind your eyes. Upon your second passing you caught enough of me to see I wasn’t much more than a clown. I was in the middle of showing off my skills of imitation. Your head whipped around, my friend laughed. It wasn’t what I’d call the most ideal manner of making a first impression… Read more…
“Somebody’s Gotta Win, Somebody’s Gotta Lose” by The Controllers which clocks in at 8:03
Matt and I made a bet. It is not without precedent, but more on that in a bit.
First, the good news. After what’s felt like a solid five to seven months of playoff basketball, the NBA Finals commence TONIGHT. “Ho hum,” you may say - or probably something less Grimms Fairy Tales-ish and more like “Who effing cares?” - but before your jock-averse eyes glaze over, consider the following: Read more…
“Bucky Little Wing” by Islands which clocks in at 9:38
“Bucky Little Wing” is a hidden track on the first Islands album Return to the Sea. Hidden in the puzzle above are 15 words pulled directly from the lyrics to the song. The words can be positioned forwards/backwards, up/down, and diagonally. If you’d like a hint, click HERE for a list of all 15 words you are looking for. Good luck! Read more…
“He’s Simple, He’s Dumb, He’s the Pilot” by Grandaddy which clocks in at 8:53
In which we examine the role of airplanes in rock and roll mythology….
At the risk of sounding like a Jerry Seinfeld bit, what’s the deal with airlines lately?
Recent headlines have utterly swelled with a surplus of negatively angled aviation tales and tidbits, and some of them are even unrelated to the obscene price of gas and oil. Amongst the latest and greatest… Read more…
“Backyards” by Broken Social Scene which clocks in at 8:14
“Sticks and stones may break my bones but wiffle ball will never hurt me.”
Right? No. Actually, it’s words. “Words will never hurt me” is the correct second half of the battle cry of the undersized that’s heard in backyards across the US every summer. It means: “Yell at me all you want, you big bully, but your words won’t be breaking these bones, no sir.” It’s a passive resistance meant to reassure those who can’t yet defend themselves. In truth, I always paid the phrase little to no mind. But it rang in my head like a TV jingle because I had a strange fascination with the breaking of bones as a child. I’d say it over and over in my mind (”sticks and stones, break my bones…”) and imagine the sticks and the stones and the breaking of bones and what that must feel and sound like. I didn’t think it “fun” but definitely found the whole idea of fractures “neat.” Which could be a result of me always wanting what I couldn’t have (my friends were all breaking bones and getting casts -cool!- but not me); or, probably was just standard macabre little boyishness. Regardless, given the collective reaction to the story I’m about to tell you, you might think the axiom was meant to be about the impotency of wiffle ball rather than inability of language to crush anything other than one’s spirit.
Here’s what I’ve been telling people this past week that’s had them all equally perplexed: “I broke my arm in two places playing f’ing wiffle ball.”
And the standard response: “You broke your arm playing wiffle ball?! How the….???”
That’s right, I did. I broke my arm playing wiffle ball. And this is how it happened… Read more…
“Change” by Oingo Boingo which clocks in at 15:59
“CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN” - Barack Obama 2008 Presidential campaign slogan
The North Carolina Presidential Primary has never mattered. This is why I’d never participated before, why I wasn’t even sure if Independents could vote in the primary when asked (they can), and why I got super extra-excited when it started looking more and more as though nothing was going to be decided for the Democratic Presidential candidates until, at least, sometime after May 6th. Heck, at the rate this thing is going the Democrats may not have their official candidate until 2012, but the party took a large step forward this past Tuesday in North Carolina… Read more…
“Blues For The Barbecue” by Count Basie which clocks in at 10:28
“Where’s the f#@*ing sauce?!”
The first time I ever tried North Carolina-style barbecue that’s all that kept going through my mind. That and the question “why”: Why did these people hand me salad dressing (vinegar sauce) when I asked for some barbecue sauce? Why was everybody drinking “sweetea” by the half gallon? Why did our neighbor suggest this particular restaurant? (It was a local fast food spot, not unlike McDowell’s excepting that they served really terrible and cheap pulled pork and spoiled cole slaw instead of ripping off McDonald’s.) Why did I feel like I’d just landed on another planet? Wasn’t this still America?? All I wanted was some barbecue!
And that’s precisely what my folks and I were having, we just didn’t know what Carolina barbecue was back then. At the time, it didn’t even occur to us that there might be different regional variations of barbecue. Heck, to us barbecue was an event, not an entrée. “Come over to our barbecue for some burgers and hot dogs!” What did we know? We were new to the area - carpetbaggers - and I was but a wee child with minimal knowledge of the art of North Carolina barbecue. And, it is an art form. In time I’d learn. Read more…
“You’ve Got to Want to Be a Star” by The Besnard Lakes which clocks in at 9:32
A real housewife of New York City lives in my neighborhood.
That one there in the picture, with the wind-blown hair and smug grin. She’s mugging like that because she thinks you might recognize her, and dammit she’s worked hard for that rewarding whiff of self-satisfaction. She may have failed in her attempts to become a serious actress (save for her role as “Lead Toothpick” in a music video) but real stars never say die. They keep hustling and persisting and persevering, because to be a star, you’ve got to want to be a star!
(How do I know that she played “Lead Toothpick”? Well, wanting to be a star means mastering the art of self-promotion, like running a web-page devoted to yourself , or even more exploitative, of your whole family. Icky)
And so it goes…she wanted to be a star so badly she opened up her neighborhood, her home, her entire LIFE – which includes two kids, a French au pair and a husband (whose own nefarious hunt for fame rivals hers) – to prying television cameras in order to gain a bit of recognition… Read more…