Monday, March 29, 2010

As I write this, there's a man singing show tunes somewhere in my house. I want him to stop.

As usual, I didn't get my shit together in time to buy tickets for two shows I really wanted to attend: see you in my dreams, Yeasayer and Surfer Blood. To cheer myself up, I bought tickets to see Local Natives and The Tallest Man on Earth. The first Local Natives clip I remember seeing was this one:



Low budget and low quality, but fantastic energy. Although, honestly, almost any a capella-ish cover of a Simon and Garfunkle song will please me; it's a soft spot in my character. Anyway, here they are doing their own thing:



Somebody somewhere called them "the West Coast version of Grizzly Bear," which sounds about right.

And then there's this man, my future husband:



Seriously: Monster Crush. I've said it before: for the past couple of years, Sweden's number one export has been raw Aryan musical talent.

G-damn, there's a lot of good music floating around right now in general. Compare the present to the late 90's and early 00's (i.e. my early teen years): what a culturally void little pocket of time that was, wasn't it? Every twenty-something reading this should pause for a moment and give thanks that we all made it through 1998. The White Stripes are in the top ten this week; things could be worse.

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