Ah, I love a band that writes a nice lil’ postcard to their fans. It says they plan on releasing their new album at the end of September, followed by A TOUR! YEAAAAAAAH! They are lovely live, for their music and banter. I’m looking forward to it. (I also like how there’s a sideways emoticon on the postcard even though it’s hand written.)

She also told me to see Yann Tiersen at Irving Plaza (er, the Filmore New York at Irving Plaza). Ooh.

“Hey, I’m going to play something,” said Erin last Wednesday, taking charge of office DJ duties. “It might be a little weird…”

First, there was nothing. Then the sounds slowly built up. Repetitive sounds that were somewhat lulling and at the same time irritating. I couldn’t tell whether I liked it or disliked it.

Me: What is this?
Erin: Dan Deacon. I thought it sounded “boppy” (“boppy” is one of my nicknames—really, my boss calls me that sometimes)

She played NPR’s stream of his upcoming album, Bromst, all the way through. And I quite like it. Muchly. I was surprised because I tried listening to Dan Deacon before and his music was just on the edge between “stuff I like” and “WTF is this.” Similar to the effect that Merriweather Post Pavillion had on my opinion of Animal Collective, It took a more accessible album to cross over into the dimension of “like.” After listening to the album a few times, I realized that I wanted to take pieces of Dan’s brainmeats and stick them in my brain so I could harness whatever power he has, if that were physically possible and not an endangerment to either of our lives, besides that I’d also need his permission. So many barriers. What a shame.

But then even if I had his brainmeats, I’d probably waste the potential awesomeness that could come out of them. He’s putting them to use; I’m staring at my monitor.

Dan Deacon – Build Voice]

A week later, I’m still obsessively listening to the album. Not sure how long this will last—getting to that critical point of “OH GOD I LISTENED TO THIS SO MANY TIMES I CAN’T STAND IT ANYMORE” is a sad inevitability. Hopefully that point won’t come for a while.

I know I’m terribly late on the Friendly Fires train, and I’d be even later if I hadn’t shopped at Uniqlo last weekend with Alex. When “Paris” blared throughout the store, I didn’t give it a second thought.

“There’s a remix featuring Au Revoir Simone that you’d like,” Alex said. “I’ll give it to you when we get back to your apartment.”

And he did. And I did like it. A lot. And I was less into the original version because I thought the vocals didn’t sound right with the feel of the song—a little too harsh for my tastes, where Au Revoir Simone got it down all dreamy-like. But upon repeated listenings, I ended up liking the original more for its chorus. And the cowbell.

Unintentional blur.

Can’t really do this in NYC.

The song captures my sentiment of wanting to return to Paris frightening well. Or it has become my sentiment, the more I listening to it and it embeds itself in my brain. There’s nowhere else that Alex and I would rather be. I just wish I knew how much longer we have to hold out for.

…On October 2nd to see Andrew Bird in Tarrytown.

I’m not sure how I’ve become too lazy to see shows in NYC but will hop on the Metro-North to see Andrew Bird. Because his shows sold out in NYC.  But that’s okay because the Tarrytown Music Hall is a seated venue, and I like sitting.  And I like Andrew Bird.

Help.

If you’re bored, recommend something to me.

Thanks.

I have, of course, claimed my URL, but haven’t uploaded anything yet. When I do, I’ll let you know.

Things are going on over there

Almost forgot to mention that I saw Caribou two weeks ago with John. My concert excitement has faded so quickly in just a few years. Or less. Not that the show wasn’t great—it was quite awesome, something I’d love to see again. Happy visuals, happy music, happy happies, energy up the wazoo, a strange sensation considering that I was so tired I just leaned against the wall the whole time and probably yawned a lot more than I should’ve, which is what every day is like these days…

This is God’s way of telling me that I should drink coffee.

The Alesis Micron 37-Key Analog Modeling Synth looks like its made of candy. Delicious fruity candy.

I can haz?

USB Turntable with Pitch Control & Universal Dock

Plug that iPod in and let ‘er rip.