atlanta

A.V. Club: Ferris Wheel Confessions

in: viewing room

But seriously.

I’ve spent the last year changing zip codes and time zones every few months, and, while it’s been something of an adventure, it’s nice to have roots somewhere. Atlanta, for all intents and purposes, is that place. Sure, all of my stuff is tossed in haphazardly labeled boxes or strewn in loosely tied dry cleaning bags, and my father has converted my bedroom into his walk-in closet, but it’s the only place I’ve lived in for any substantial period of time. Plus, there’s this real fun (and real, real hairy) guy who likes to bury his head into the couch beside me – and he likes to snuggle, though sometime I hope he’ll return the head rubs – and there are some of the normal creature comforts.

But, as all of you are surely aware, I just finished a three-month tenure in San Francisco, Calif., that bounty of wealth, fog and endless shorelines. In three plus years in Chicago, I found a true sense of home; granted, I had the built-in social networks afforded by being enrolled in a university, but Chicago was, too, a city I could master (and one I cannot wait to return to, but that bucket list is forthcoming). San Francisco was slower to warm to; I fell instantly in love with the city and its gorgeous views, with the rolling hills and the truly stellar burritos, but I didn’t quite learn to call it home. My love affair was brief, if only because I am not yet in the professional and/or emotional position to be a true San Franciscan. It’s, I’ve found, a late-20s and beyond sort of town, whose inhabitants need flexible incomes to be young and in love. I was a poor, if incredibly happy, editorial intern. My time there was reformative, giving me the strength and drive to write again, rebuilding my self-confidence and sculpting my calves (you should seriously see these things; they’re basically registered weapons), but it wasn’t home.

Nevertheless, I left with a cavalcade of exceptional memories; I can’t begin to chronicle them here, but I’m sure you’ll read them woven into future essays. For now, I’ll leave you with a couple of the ones caught on tape.

In October, I won a pair of Treasure Island Music Festival weekend passes from the Bay Bridged by submitting a reworked version of “Patch Adams” starring The Hold Steady. The festival was incredible and gave me glimpses into sets from The Hold Steady, Death Cab, The Head and the Heart, Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks and The Naked and Famous, among so, so many more. But the crowning, uh, achievement, I guess, of the weekend was landing a role in the Ferris Wheel Confessions, brought to the festival jointly by the Bay Bridged and Audyssey. Basically, if you agree to participate, and if you’re one of the few who sign up immediately, you get a free ride on the 60-foot Ferris Wheel; during your ten or so minute ride, you’re asked a handful of questions about your musical proclivities (the more embarrassing, the better), and they capture your responses on film. Post-festival, they mash together all the best moments and release two videos, a teaser and a longer form. Not to brag or whatevs, but I’m featured pretty prominently in both, embedded below. Look out for the girl with the bright, neon yellow hoodie, with hair all tousled (sex-ay) and glasses askew. Gents, the line starts here.

Ferris Wheel Confessions, The Teaser:

Ferris Wheel Confession, The Extended Edition:

About a Girl: Juggling

on: the girl

This may be a post far more worthy for, say, The Girl With the Hasidic Strap, but there’s a definite air of Dunce Cap here, too. Regardless, I’ll make it short.

Image courtesy of devianart

I’m starting to feel like myself again. Y’know, the old me? The one-time popular girl, the rock n’ roll aficionado, the brazen smarty-pants. It’s all starting to feel, I don’t know, natural again. The interview today helped, certainly, the one with a certain music journalist and amateur documentarian (or professional drinker – it’s anyone’s call) that will hopefully go up here late this week or early next. And it was more, too. It was driving along wet suburban streets with the radio blasting, hand to wheel, Atlanta all steamy from early evening rainstorms. And it was this song, too, a little.


Shawn Mullins, “Lullabye”

This may not seem like a terribly momentous occasion, feeling like I used to. But it is. It’s something big and real and, well, extraordinary.

Happy listening.

The Dunce Cap: May 3, 2010

in: heavy rotation

Image courtesy of brandonbird.com

The Dunce Cap, Vol. 6: On the carousel so around I spun (spun). (mix via 8tracks)

  1. “Bennie & the Jets” – Elton John
  2. “Elenore” – The Turtles
  3. “Someone I Can Be True With” – Sloan
  4. “Girlfriend” – Phoenix
  5. “House of Cards” – Butch Walker & the Black Widows
  6. “The Beach Song” – Someone Still Loves You, Boris Yeltsin
  7. “Straw Dog” – Something Corporate
  8. “Nothing on You” – B.o.B.
  9. “Electric Feel” – MGMT
  10. “Lost in Yichang” – Hilotrons

Another Thursday, another mix!
As you all probably know, I’m a sucker for anything that can make my hips swing!, and I think this playlist is full of ’em. Not all of them are intentionally dance-a-billy, but they’ve got a great beat, and, hell, they make me wanna cha cha. The mix kicks off with two of my favorite throwbacks, Elton‘s classic “Bennie and the Jets” and The Turtles‘ “Elenore” (almost as good as “Happy Together*” and surely less sappy), and moves onto a slew of solid tracks from modern artists, including Phoenix, Butch Walker (playing H.O.B. Chicago Sunday!), SSLYBY, B.o.B. (who butchered “Build Me Up Buttercup” when he sampled it for his “Don’t Break My Heart“) and MGMT. And the Butch track, “House of Cards”? Total shades of The Cars. Digging the track and the new album.

“Nothing on You,” B.o.B.’s track which was recently used in an ode to Betty White, is a cheerily sweet dedication to a one n’ only. The video, featured below, is wonderfully simplistic, and I especially love the shout-out to my fair city (and the poor, tornado-maimed Westin Peachtree Plaza Hotel, where I had my senior prom). In a similar vein, I’ve definitely noticed a rebirth of the music video, an art form I have long appreciated. My family didn’t have cable as a kid, and I distinctly remember attempting to adjust the antenna to get a static-y music video station, and my earliest memories of music television were not of Carson Daly and MTV but of the edited version of Juvenile’s “Back That (Thang) Up.”


“Nothing On You” [The Adventures of Bobby Ray, 2010]

So check it out, and if you’re feeling a bit nostalgic, maybe even revisit “Bye Bye Bye,” one of my favorite music videos from youth. I’m thinking about making next week a “Best Music Videos” playlist, so keep an eye out for that.

As always, happy listening!

(*editor’s note: This video is so trippy. It’s astronauts in jumpsuits, 80s shoulder pads, psychedelia and general weirdness. Very amusing, definitely worth a watch, but bizarre.)