I recently got a hit on my blog for the Googled phrase, "open mouth, o wisp." The hit came from a link to my January 2007 archives where I discuss Trevor's poetry, as well as a 2003 poem containing this phrase by friend and ex-Oaklander Michael Cross (who has just had this poem published in a chapbook, In Felt Treeling: A Libretto, by Chax).

So what if Captain Copyright was actually looking for a download of the album, Open Mouth, o Wisp, by the Oakland band Gorge Trio? More interesting to me is that I discovered this band (noisy fun) and that this album, released in 2004 after a three-year process, begs the question -- chicken or egg?

Also more interesting, yet unsurprising, to me is that the chapbook is fucking brilliant. Can't say it enough. Get it here.

Moving on, this isn't meant to be a post to wonder at the myriad ways someone gets to one's blog. Or to merely pimp Michael's achingly amazing work. It is, ultimately, about me!

I took the opportunity to re-read some of my earlier blog posts from almost exactly one year ago, and further back than that. Holy smokes, did I blog (and rant) a lot more, and IMHO about a lot of interesting stuff!

Since I've been so ho-hum in the blogging department lately, this was a somewhat depressing revelation.

What could it be? I have been pondering this over the last couple of days. Am I not inspired? Drinking too much (or too little)? Devoid of drama?

Aha.

When I started this blog, I had just stepped hesitantly into my thirties. I worked in a soul-numbing job at the wholly irritating and taxpayer-dollar-hemorrhaging State of California, and my place of employment had just moved from an easy bike ride from my apartment to a 45 minute car commute to an industrial wasteland. I was beginning my second Master's degree widowship, with three years to go obstructing my view of any light at the end of the tunnel. My best friend was readying herself to leave for Asia, with no plans to return.

In other words, I had the luxury of a lot of Western annoyances to bitch about.

Now, I am fully immersed in the mid-thirties and I feel I'm at my very best physically and mentally. I have a soul-affirming job that uses its donor-based funding reasonably well, can be only slightly irritating, and is a bike ride away from my place. The hubby has finished his degree (anyone looking for a librarian/archivist/information wrangler?), and my bestie is readying for her USA comeback.

The verdict? I have been at my most prolific, thoughtful, and interesting as a blogger when I have been miserable. I have been lazy and negligent in my blogging when I have been a happy camper. A generalization for sure, but oi, how terrible!

I'm not one for resolutions, but let's just say I'm going to try to be a more thoughtful blogger. Well-composed dissections of art and music don't have to come to life only whilst going through the motions of a boring job, right? Rants don't necessarily have to be born from anger and misery, non? And machinations to rule the world don't need to be wrought from aspirations to kill everyone around you (I hope).

So friends, I do resolve to once again earn your readership, quite possibly without being a hater.

And hopefully that means I will post more than once a month! :)

Peter Hartlaub at the SF Chron listed his best breakup songs a while back, and I saved the article because I thought I'd take a stab someday. But then I thought, breakup songs are easy.

I want to make a mix of the best stalker songs -- not the obvious ones like "You Oughta Know" and "Every Breath You Take" and such, but the ones that masquerade as terribly romantic ditties. Though I don't think I can bring myself to place some of them in my iTunes long enough to burn the disc.

See what I mean:

1. "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You?" by Michael Bolton

And I don't wanna face the price I'm gonna pay for dreaming
Now that your dream has come true

Screw you and your dream! And hello -- y'all know who is actually going to "face the price." Nice.

Tell me how am I supposed to live without you
Now that I've been lovin' you so long
How am I supposed to live without you
How am I supposed to carry on
When all that I've been livin' for is gone

Truly chilling.

2. "I'm Your Man" by Wham!

Admittedly controversial in its stalker potential, for George Michael finishes the song with a nod to the consensual -- "If you want me, I'm your man" -- but I still place it on my list for this:

So good, you're divine
Wanna take you wanna make you
But they tell me it's a crime
Everybody knows where the good people go
But where we're going baby
Ain't no such word as NO

And the best one ever...

3. "Hungry Eyes" by Eric Carmen

The classic from every girl's favorite movie, Dirty Dancing. Aww it's so romantic! Um, no.

I've been meaning to tell you
I've got this feelin that won't subside
I look at you and I fantasize
You're mine tonight
Now I've got you in my sights

...

I want to hold you so hear me out

...

Now did I take you by surprise
I need you to see
That you were meant for me

Creeeeeeeeepy.

I can't front worth a shit though -- I actually like that song, saxophone and all. Makes me feel like I'm 12 again.



Okay, and those of you who know me know I'm totally bullshitting about not frikken LOVING that Wham! song too. George Michael in black, gyrating with inexplicable gloves and a tambourine = best. thing. ever. Though I was always an Andrew Ridgeley kind of girl.



I know I'll make you happy with the one thing that you never had.

C'mon, admit it -- you're so 12 again too.

I just read about a newish band who recently released their first album on Joan Jett's Blackheart label. The band is called Girl in a Coma, and they are really worth a listen.

I am always skeptical of bands that are touted as having Smiths-esque lyrics -- this one with a singer who is promoted as a "female version of Morrissey" t'boot. And I was especially skeptical when I read they were Mexican-Americans from Texas! (As any red-blooded Mexican will tell you, the Smiths and Morrissey are god, and what better marketing ploy but to namedrop the divine.)

But I am a sucker for girlpunk bands, and one listen to Girl in a Coma proved that they are not only catchy and punky and fun, but demonstrated that their 19-year old singer has one incredible voice. And while their arrangements definitely nod to 90s punk, the lyrics don't strike me as particularly Smiths-like. It's just good, honest, fun punk rock. I think I'm going to try to check them out at Fat City's Cockblock dance party on June 15. For 6 dollars, you can't go wrong.

Okay, and if you're like me, this video for Girl in a Coma's song 'Clumsy Sky' from their debut album Both Before I'm Gone will make you remember what it was like when you were 16 and didn't work in an office.



--

Have you heard the new Patti Smith cover album, Twelve?

Yeah, yeah, been out for a while, but I just got a listen. I felt it was kind of flat. At first I thought it was just because it's, you know, Patti Smith, and I was expecting something that was going to make me swoon. But then I realized it just really wasn't that good. One reason for that is that the covers are pretty true to the originals, the exception being her version of Nirvana's brilliant and iconic 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' which is reinvented as a banjo-infused porch-tapper and not only showcases her unmistakable voice but utilizes some of Patti's own words.

But otherwise, kinda ehhh. Even her cover of one of my favorite songs, The Decemberists' 'Here I Dreamt I Was An Architect' was bland bland. Even so, I am reminded of what the main man over at B(oo)tlog wrote about the whirlwind around Rock Plaza Central's cover of Justin Timberlake's 'SexyBack:'

No matter how seriously you take yourself and your music, figure out at least one song by someone else, make it your own - really put your own stamp on it - and play it in your set. Audiences (really, I am speaking for myself, but I think others feel the same way) love that.

Audiences DO love it. And that love is what makes the prospect of a full album of cover songs by an iconic singer exciting. But it is best done live, 'tis true. It is really really hard to transfer that energy and fire of a live cover into a studio album.

But, Patti's done it well in the past; take a listen to 'When Doves Cry.' Heh, but I think this started out as a cover she would do at shows.