“I’m not trying to get negative, I’m just…(Sigh)”
That pretty much sums up this snarky, cynical and humorous collection of speculations and observations from Simon Rich. It’s a collection that presents a more youthful, upbeat resignation echoing the more reposed one found in the writing of David Sedaris. Ant Farm is full of nostalgic recollections and weird possibilities concerning the irrelevancies of those desperate situations that give us awkward moments of reflection.
Moments that involve realizing the agony spent before receiving one’s first calculator, the ironic closed-mindedness when experimenting with a ouija board, making candy with a forgetful someone named Peanut Al, keeping close tabs on your daily karma tally, God’s overwhelming support for Orel Hershiser, and the three things you really don’t need if stranded on a desert island.
Ant Farm is an incredibly fast and funny read. The selections are brief and varied, maybe a little too much so, as each consists no more than a couple of pages and is unbounded by coherent theme other than pure whimsy. But it does create that weird momentary pause, raising the question whether there is anything more absurd than us humans and our behavior.
There are so many intriguing parts constituting the whole of Calexico that make its sound more an experience than a commercial product. John Convertino’s drumming, the stormy, border-infused lyrics of Joey Burns, the duality of breezy subtlety and explosive thunder from the brass section of Jacob Valenzuela and Martin Wenk, and Paul Niehaus’ dreamy, ultra-slick pedal steel and electric guitar can all have separate and successful solo avenues. Together though, they are Calexico, one of the best under-the-radar southwestern and alternative bands around.
Their previous release, Garden Ruin, was an attempt to consolidate their well-established musical experiment, and though lyrically Calexico continued to push boundaries, the fullness of their sound was stifled. Carried to Dust is a return to form, slightly more sorrowful than The Black Light, Hot Rail or Feast of Wire, but it is incredibly strong nonetheless. It’s as if the chilled atmosphere of this album is symbolic of the desert in winter.
Calexico both captures and reinvents the haze and tumble of southwestern border music. Miles upon miles of highway, man-made lakes, illegal ports, migrants avoiding spotlights, living on the wire, and dreams of a new life are the stories and images of Calexico. Stories which often highlight the plight of those overlooked by most citizens, the invisible people quietly struggling to survive.
In addition to the release of of Two Silver Trees, standouts of the album include Writer’s Minor Holiday, Inspiracion (with guests Amparo Sanchez and Jairo Zavala), El Gatillo, Slowness (with Pieta Brown), and Red Blooms.
Also, can’t forget to mention the always evocative artwork of Victor Gastelum.
Posted in music, reviews
Tagged alt country, amparo sanchez, calexico, carried to dust, jairo zavala, joey burns, john convertino, pieta brown, reviews, sam beam, southwestern, victor gastelum
As illuminating as it is to have a gaming collection in one’s library, like any collection there are risks to assess before buying an expensive set of consoles and trusting that your patrons will actually return them, even the games. At my library we have an enviable collection of about 150 games available to students, faculty and staff, and while most patrons are mindful of due dates and others wanting to get their game on, a few can spoil that collective fun.
Here are the positives:
Games will disappear. Get used to it. Yes, patrons with overdue games on their account can be blocked from future transactions and billed for replacement. But what happens if library staff members pocket a game right after it’s returned? How will it be found? Games are high in popularity and thus high in risk.
Games are expensive. Unless they are bought used on Amazon or from the local game store, there will be hard choices to make regarding replacing the perennially popular titles that may end up perennially lost or stolen. One of the reasons we have a gaming collection is that the campus gaming club supplies us with the games which we add to the catalog. We wouldn’t have the budget to otherwise purchase and replace such games. What about duplicate copies?
Is extra equipment required? Do you need video cameras, locked cabinets, or extra RFID tags to keep them from getting taken or lost? Containers to protect them during transit?
What’s your loan period? Really, games nowadays take a lengthy time to finish. One game has an ending challenge sequence that takes eighteen hours to complete. When gamers begin “passing out and getting physically ill” before taking a break, you know they’ll sacrifice a few dollars in fines so that they can finish the game.
These are just a few of the considerations we’ve run into with our collection. It’s an advantageous position to be sure, since the losses incurred do not directly come from our budget; however, without proper consideration for the scenarios affecting the selection and integration of games into the curriculum, the losses could be much steeper.
Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea is the latest release from The Silver Jews, and in my opinion it’s the most consistent album released by David Berman. Like all SJ releases, it contains the typical amount of sly resignation and witty slacker-sophistication from an eternally sobering songwriter. Berman laments the fate of the suffering jukeboxes in happy towns, country restroom on the radio, the illicit exploits of lard connoisseurs, the importation of squirrels and chicken-fried pigeon in preparation for the onslaught of autumn, and most importantly, the gooey, candy-coated imprisonments we willingly and routinely place ourselves in.
The Silver Jews is a branded band made in the mold of all the current under-the-radar greats such as Neko Case, Giant Sand, Calexico, The Handsome Family, etc. Slightly dark, weird and esoteric? Absolutely, but certainly the music is original, imaginative and with that distinctive southwestern / alt. country flair making it anachronistic enough to be cutting edge.
I daresay that this album may be enough to propel the Silver Jews just beyond their typical squirrelly fan base, but probably and regrettably not enough for mainstream play. It’s a shame, since Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea really is a strange victory.
Take a listen.