Year of Songs: It Started Feeling Like October

Answer me this: why do we have September, November, and December, but we have October? Shouldn't it be Octember? And aren't all the prefixes on these months off by two? "Sept-" means seven, but September is the ninth month. "Oct-" means eight, and it's the tenth month. Shouldn't "November" and "December" refer to the ninth and tenth months, respectively?

Perhaps we'll never solve all the mysteries surrounding Octember... er, October. On to the playlist:

 

October - Broken Bells

I knew I was going to love Broken Bells even before I heard a note of their music. How could I not love a collaboration between James Mercer (the lead singer/guitarist/songwriter from The Shins) and Danger Mouse (producer of some of my favorite albums of the past decade by the likes of Beck, Gorillaz, Gnarls Barkley*, and The Good, the Bad, and the Queen)? Their debut album was one of my favorite albums of last year.  

Annie Use Your Telescope - Jack's Mannequin

A recommendation from Brady Emmett**, who very punctually filed this suggestion back in August:
"I've been sitting on this all year!  My absolute favorite Jack's Mannequin song is 'Annie Use Your Telescope' (Also, saw him live in concert last night.  Awesome!)  'It started feeling like October...'"

Outubro - Milton Nascimento

Milton Nascimento is one of the giants of Brazilian popular music, along with legends like Gal Costa (flimsy excuse to brag about meeting her again).  "Outubro," as you can probably guess, means "October."
 
Gloria - U2

This is from October, U2's second album, released in 1981. There is a track named "October" on the album that would have been more apropos, but it's this dull, mostly instrumental track that I invariably skip over. I much prefer "Gloria," which may be the best rock song with a chorus in Latin.

Miss You - Blink-182

Not a Blink-182 fan, but I've always liked this song. This was also on my "Obliquely Christmas" playlist, due to the line, "We'll have Halloween on Christmas." Speaking of mixing Halloween and Christmas...

This is Halloween - From The Nightmare Before Christmas
The Remains of the Day - From Corpse Bride 

Danny Elfman and Tim Burton bring a very Halloween-y vibe to a lot of their collaborations. Corpse Bride is obviously less Halloween-related than The Nightmare Before Christmas, but I actually like "The Remains of the Day" better than any song in Nightmare. And it is performed by a bunch of animated skeletons, for goodness' sake.   

Werewolf Bar Mitzvah - Tracy Jordan (From 30 Rock)

Forget "Monster Mash" or any other Halloween novelty party songs. This is the Halloween novelty party song to end all Halloween novelty party songs. This was originally a seven second long cutaway gag on an episode of 30 Rock:



Thankfully the writers*** fleshed it out to a full-length song, which you can hear on the playlist above. Mazel tov!

******************

As always, if you have any song suggestions for November (or December), please leave them in the comments below.

* The Gnarls Barkley song I linked to above ("Online") is built around a sample from "Welcome to the Rain," a minor hit by long-forgotten Portland band Mid Day Rain. (Click here for a side-by-side comparison of the songs.) The song was written in 1970 by the band's bassist, Scott Davis, who I know better as "Bishop Davis." Check out the original song:




Admit it - my bishop is cooler than yours (provided you have a bishop). What's funny is that he had no idea that Gnarls Barkley had sampled his song until a few months ago when I told him and played him a little bit of the track. He said that the copyright expired after 25 years, so he didn't get any financial windfall from the sampling. However, the original profits from the song helped him pay for his mission.

** Happy birthday to Brady on Halloween!

*** "Werewolf Bar Mitzvah" was written by Donald Glover, a former 30 Rock staff writer who is now better known as Troy on Community.

Step Right Up

Saturday, October 8:
Michigan vs. Northwestern, Thirsty Lion Pub in Portland

Saturday, October 15:
Oregon State vs. Brigham Young, Reser Stadium in Corvallis, OR

Saturday, October 22:
Utah vs. Cal, Macadam's Grill in Portland

Funny how prior to 2007 I actually flaunted my ignorance of/indifference toward football, yet suddenly it is my Saturday activity of choice.

I went down to Corvallis last weekend with my sister and two of her boys to see the Beaver game.  However, my favorite part of the trip actually happened before the game. They had a bunch of booths and carnival-type games set up in front of the stadium, including one of those "swing the hammer, ring the bell" games with free t-shirts for the victors. I'm pretty wimpy and I was sure I'd make a fool of myself, but I can't resist the allure of a free t-shirt, so I stepped right up:

Boo-yah! With my new Emblem of Manliness I felt pretty good about myself. I wore it to work this week and told my manager how I had won the shirt where other burlier men had failed. His response? "You do know that the game operators can change the resistance, right? A lot of times they like to mess with the burly guys and let the wusses win."

Huh. So maybe my Emblem of Manliness is actually a Stigma of Wussiness. But hey, free t-shirt!

SST: Geometry of Circles

SESAME STREET TUESDAY

Last month Bob Boilen, host of one of my favorite podcasts (All Songs Considered), posted a memory on his NPR blog about his days as a director of the NPR program All Things Considered. It was his job to select appropriate, mood-setting music to play between segments, which was never more difficult than on September 11, 2001. He ended up choosing this piece by minimalist composer Philip Glass:



He later gave a talk where he explained why he chose this particular piece on that day:

"I wasn't going to play very dramatic music... I wasn't going to play music that had a lot of baggage to it... Not a famous Mozart or a Beethoven piece that was heavy or weighty... [Instead I played] a piece that didn't have a beginning, middle, and an end, because that is how I sometimes think about minimalist music, where it is just this mood that falls and happens... And it was just right... All of a sudden there was a place to breathe...... People didn't need more emotion, they just needed time to think." 

Although I had studied many of Philip Glass's works in depth as a music major in college and had seen many films that he has scored, I was unfamiliar with this particular piece. As I listened to it for the first time there was something about it that pushed out a lot of clutter in my mind and brought in a lot of clarity. I was recently able to track down the CD on which it is found, Glassworks, and I have been listening to it a lot over the last week, especially at work, where I have found that it makes me incredibly productive.

Little did I know* that my first exposure to Philip Glass came at a very young age via a series of pieces called "Geometry of a Circle" that he composed in 1979 specifically for Sesame Street:



*I wouldn't have realized this was Glass without an assist from my friend Peter. He emailed me about this a while ago, saying, "in retrospect, [this is] pretty crazy for a kid's show."

Vindicated!

I was in Chicago in 1994 … and at this time I had no thoughts of coming back and playing the game of basketball. Bryon Russell came over to me and said, ‘Why’d you quit? You know I could guard you. If I ever see you in a pair of shorts …’  

When I did come back in 1995 and we played Utah in ‘96, I’m at the center circle and Bryon Russell is standing next to me. I said, "You remember the [comments] you made in 1994 about, ‘I think I can guard you, I can shut you down, I would love to play against you? Well, you’re about to get your chance."

The quote above comes from Michael Jordan's Hall of Fame induction speech, in which we learned that what drove him to greatness was petty grudges based on past slights.

Likewise, I have held a petty grudge since Memorial Day weekend 2008 that has given me motivation. I quote my own blog:

...on Sunday night our ward FHE activity was a Jell-O competition, I am holding my entry in that same picture on the left - Gelatina Colorida. It's a dessert I had frequently in Brazil, consisting of various colors of Jell-O cubed and then encased in a mixture of sweetened condensed milk, heavy cream, and unflavored gelatin... There were only seven entries in the contest and there were five grand prizes and mine failed to win any of them. Even a plate of lemon Jell-O with peas and string beans in it, which even its creator declared inedible, won a prize. The only other participant who didn't win a prize was Brady Emmett, and his dish didn't even have Jell-O in it (it was tapioca pudding). They did invent an honorary award for my dish ("Most Least American"), but My Gelatina Colorida losing out on the real awards was the biggest snub since The Color Purple went 0 for 11 at the 1986 Oscars.

Flash forward to today. At work we had a purple dessert competition (it is Yahoo!, after all), and I once again made Gelatina Colorida, only this time I only used purple Jell-O to fit the theme. I even painstakingly carved out the Yahoo! logo into the purple Jell-O with a knife. I was afraid that once again the American palettes of the judges might not understand my dish.

However, near the end of the day the contest results popped up in my inbox:

Like before, an additional award was created for me, but unlike the condescending "Most Least American" (which I admit is pretty clever), instead they gave this more flattering qualification: "Given the array of yummy creations this year, we were actually able to add another prize to honor a 4th place winner as well!" My prize? A cake pan with a cover and handle, and a set of quiche pans. Score!

So kids, always hold grudges ;)