I got bangs or a fringe a couple of weeks ago. For the most part, I’ve felt slightly ridiculous with them. Today, I feel like Karen O.
“Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch-hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but that Baronetage, there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt. As he turned over the almost endless creations of the last century–and there,if every other leaf were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never failed”
~ Jane Austen, Persuasion
Trust Andrew Sullivan to post a ridiculously cool video like this. The conceit is interesting, unlike a lot of music videos. The embodiment (I don’t want to say impersonation because Michaelson is still clearly herself under the makeup) of Amy Winehouse is jarring. The two women share a similar facial structure making it an uncanny choice. I think I like the KISS and David Bowie embodiments most myself, and it’s obvious Michaelson finds them both amusing too–she has a grin in both segments.
I’ve had this song in my head for days. I think it’s part of a summer, backyard mix I’m mentally working out for Cassie. Lily will have summer tunes Cass, and I think it’ll work for the boat too.
I’ve loved Wes Anderson’s quirky vision ever since I saw The Royal Tennenbaums with Walter, Dan, and Yolanda one Christmas break. Everything about his aesthetic–the color palette, vintage kitsch, bookish quality, humorous self destructive dreamers, soundtrack–appealed to me on some level. Wes Anderson’s world is our world filtered through a sepia lens and creative framing. I’ve always thought that Anderson essentially tells adult fairy tales. The Royal Tennenbaums hooked me the moment Alec Baldwin began narrating the story like it was some fractured tale from the mind of Lemony Snicket, but it definitely wasn’t a children’s story. Some are coming of age stories–Rushmore–but most are about the ways families fall apart and then knit themselves back together the best they can.
The deep sense of melancholia that Manola Dhargis points out in her review that pervades most of Anderson’s oeuvre is, I think, a product of his sense of nostalgia. His characters are constantly searching for a past glory (or in this case a future one) that may not in fact exist. Mr. Fox craves the thrill of theft, Royal Tennenbaum will do anything to recapture the moment he was the center of his family’s universe, the brothers in The Darjeeling Limited search for some sense of connection. Some of the nostalgia comes from the French New Wave influence of Francois Truffaut, specifically his fantastic film Small Change. There’s almost a continuum between Truffaut’s work there and Anderson’s textured visions. Mostly, the nostalgia that fuels Anderson’s work is not about reconstructing the past, or at least, they’re not resolved this way. Instead, Anderson’s films celebrate the movement from dreaming to living in the present. Moonrise Kingdom, about two twelve year olds, love, running away, and a summer camp just sounds like the perfect odd summer film.
For those of you who aren’t as up on your arcane knowledge, Yann Tiersen did the soundtrack for Amelie, one of my favorite movies. This NPR Tiny Desk Concert is for his new album Skyline. I still want a summer internship at the All Songs Considered offices just so I can be in the office on the days the Tiny Desk Concert is filmed.
Emily and I caught most of This American Life‘s live show in the car, and part of the show happened to be OK Go leading the audience in an interactve musical experience to “Needing/Getting”. Could this band get any more zany or cooler?
Oh, well there’s this. Yep, they’re playing the song with the car.
As a side note, this particular episode of This American Life, “Invisible Made Visible” is just all around good, and surprisingly poignant for disability studies.