, : “I don’t want to meet your momma. I just want to make you comma.” (Outkast, “Hey Ya.”)
? : Question Mark & the Mysterians (“96 Tears”)
! : “Overused like an exclamation point” (Latryx, “Exclamation Point”)
; : “A comma and a fucking dot; semicolon” (The Lonely Island, “Semicolon”)
‘ : “Apostrophe,” Frank Zappa.
“ : “Like the sailor said, quote, ‘Ain’t that a hole in the boat?’” (Dean Martin, “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head?”)
: : Javier Colon.
The extra “o” in Wooods stands for Lake O, the band has revealed. Not loudly revealed, mind you—Wooods are of the whisperpop movement, which plays as softly as possible, for audiences who are just as quiet. The band of the lake (Lake Olympus to its 18th century discoverers; “Lake O” to hordes of hikers since) is their favorite stage. Applause is signified by sign language; not even fingersnapping is allowed. “We don’t want to just evoke nature in our music,” leader Simon Magrey suggests. “We want to be a part of nature.”
As you may have guessed, flutes and whistles are involved, augmenting the breezes and birdcalls in the wilderness. But there are guitars too—homemade lyres, to be precise. Rocks and sticks provide percussion.
Wooods’ line-up changes like the seasons, but neither is the band a loose collective or community drum circle. Magrey, his romantic partner Pri Lincoln and their roommate Marc Rutherfurd are sustaining members in a band that can sometimes grow to eight members without ever getting loud. Lincoln was a champion birdcaller in high schooler, so she handles the vocals. “I think of them as lyrics,” she says. “It’s just not in a language we understand.”
Tonight: The Orijens at The Bullfinch with the “raw ukulele” act Uke-anuba… Spratt’s Solid Gold at Hamilton’s, a post-holiday dance party… An Evening With Essential Foods at D’ollaire’s, with the local duo AvoDerm (Sue Avon and Jim J. Dermott) opening. AvoDerm just got signed to an indie label in Wisconsin, while one-hit wonders Essential Foods have been label-less for a couple of years. One going up, the other heading down…
The Art of Casper Jim
Archie Andrews generally lives in a Mad Magazine-like mirror world of parody. The same celebrities and institutions exist in Riverdale that you can find in the world at large. They just have funnier names.
In the story “The Swing of Things,” Archie’s dad, Fred, listens to “Benny Badman” rather than Benny Goodman records , which Archie thinks are better than the “awfully repetitious” videos on “NTV.”
In “The Champ of Camp,” Mr. Lodge collects pop art masterpieces by “Sandy Airhole” and “Casper Jim.”
In “The Hot ‘70s,” Jughead learns to dance like “John Revolta.”
Yet decades before those other stories, in the 1945 “Junk for a Junket,” Archie gives a one cent tip on a $15 restaurant bill, and the waiter responds “Thanks, Meestaire Benny”—a real world, non soundalike reference to noted radio cheapskate Jack Benny.
We saw a squib in the paper and have decided to join a club.
RONiiA, “Fool’s Game.” This is one of those songs that has enough ideas in it to be a full album. It’s a cool collaboration among Nona Marie Invie of Dark Dark Dark, Mark McGee of Marijuana Deathsquad and Fletcher Barnhill of Joint Custody. Slow and droney without being willfully arch or antagonistic, “Fool’s Game” is a nightmarishly dream spun from chirps, thumps and ethereal (yet low and human) vocals. It gets dense, yet still floats. Real 3 a.m. contemplative stuff. Wish it were 20 minutes long instead of five.
http://www.wonderingsound.com/song-premiere-roniia/
Magic number: 06925
Magic word: Jambo
Billy Bragg, “January Song”: “Turn around and taste tomorrow, this is where the end begins.”
The Decemberists, “January Hymn”
Gilbert O’Sullivan, “January Girl”
Goo Goo Dolls, “January Friend”
Pilot, “January.” (Yep, the “wo-ho-ho it’s magic” band.)
Elton John, “January”
Tori Amos, “Black Dove (January)”
Barbara Dickson, “January February.” Scottish Streisandian pop singer.
Jill Sobule, “Manhattan in January” (a protest song about global warming)
The Twilight Sad, “Last January.”
There’s also this poem, “One Third of the Calendar,” by Ogden Nash:
In January everything freezes.
We have two children. Both are she’ses.
This is our January rule:
One girl in bed, and one in school.
In February the blizzard whirls.
We own a pair of little girls.
Blessings upon of each the head—
The one in school and the one in bed.
March is the month of cringe and bluster.
Each of our children has a sister.
They cling together like Hansel and Gretel,
With their noses glued to the benzoin kettle.
April is made of impetuous waters
And doctors looking down throats of daughters.
If we had a son too, and a thoroughbred,
We’d have a horse,
And a boy,
And two girls
In bed.
The C Worms were just getting into a righteous groove at the summer club Shecky’s Shell Shack when they got shellacked by a wave of unexpected feedback.
Then it happened again. And again and again and again. And again. At regular intervals, until it was EXPECTED feedback. The inevitability of which produced a singular surf stomp. When folks got up to dance on the creaky stage (supported by lobster crates), the warped sounds were indistinguishable from the refined ones.
When an old gent got up from the restaurant counter and started clattering a pair of chowder spoons up and down his body, the sandy cacophony was complete.
The band has not been asked back by the Shell Shack (apparenlty they gave some of the war veterans who make up much of the beachside bar’s clientele uncomfortable flashbacks). But they have been asked to revise the act for a neo-classical concert at the college on the hill. Sounds like a bad joke, but it’s true. This may be the start of something willfully obscure…
Tonight: Aerated Static Pile at the Bullfinch… Blue Bin at Hamilton’s… An Evening with The Algal Blooms at D’ollaire’s…
One of the enduring mysteries of The Archies, at least in their comic book incarnation (distinct from their recordings and TV manifestations) is whether this is a successful band or not. In some stories, they are a humble, struggling garage band hoping to land a gig, any gig. In other stories, they’re touring the world, playing arenas alongside Josie & the Pussycats and The Madhouse Glads.
‘Twas ever thus. In the early ’70s story “I’ll Bite!,” which has just been reprinted in Betty & Veronica Comics Double Digest #229, The Archies are playing their biggest hit song in the living room of Sabrina the Teenage Witch, who brags too her aunt “Isn’t that a great song, Aunt Hilda? They received a gold record for’Sugar Sugar.'”
“Bah!,” Aunt Hilda responds. “Ever since I heard the Archies music is on the air, I’m tempted to stop breathing it.”
In the world of Archie, rock & roll largely exists as a reason to be tossed out the front door by a disapproving authority figure. It is as great a signifier of the generation gap as clothing or slang. A guitar might as well be a target, or a toreador’s red flag. It doesn’t matter that The Archies have sold a million records, or are showing responsibility and good business sense (not to mention creativity and musical ability) by managing such a project while still in their teens. It ultimately doesn’t make a difference, in Archie world, if they’ve sold a million records or zero. They’ll never win over their parents with that blasted noise.
Resolution: gracious living from now on, with better stuff.