Archepelago - Mirah - You Think It's Like This But Really, It's Like This - 2000

...this New Years however was something of a mixed bag. The evening started out well enough. My buddy Corey offered to host at his quite swanky and spacious Bushwick loft. My ladyfriend (who looked quite fetching that night) and I had sushi at our friend Shani's and then headed over for the festivities about 830. We helped with some of the party prep and drank some wine...the evening was going swimmingly.

Soon the guests began arriving and again, things were going well. It was a nice mix of close friends and people I'd never met. Several of my ladyfriend's Russian friends showed and turned up the excitement a bit. There was a fair bit of rowdiness, juvenile horseplay, vodka slamming, and party lesbianism...exactly what you want in a good NYE party.

Midnight came and I kissed my girl and slammed champagne and prepared to ride out the evening watching Russian girls grope each other....but then, about 130 AM, one of the party attendees had to turn into That Guy.

He'd shown up about 1130 and started pounding booze. He saw a room full of attractive girls engaging in mildly risque behavior and probably thought that 2009 was shaping up to be a GREAT year. It took him till about 130 to realize that all of those girls were going home with the guys they showed up with, and he was going home alone...that's when a tantrum of epic proportions broke out. He began going around the room, having determined that smoothness would get him nowhere, and blatantly asking women to service him...usually in this request was made in front of the target's boyfriend. When he was inevitably denied, he would respond with what I'm sure he thought of as a clever witticism "You won't suck? You suck!"

Eventually one of the boyfriends decided to do something about this and chucked a piece of ice at his head...this meant that I now had a six foot two wildly drunk and angry Latino man with a gushing head wound to deal with in a room full of suddenly surly Russians at 2 in the morning on NYE. My visions of how my evening was going to end went from pornographic to sad and annoying rather quickly.

Anytime I attempted to point out that perhaps it was time to go, I was given the response of "Listen, I am HOME...I am HOME, right here!!!" He then went on to trash the bathroom, man handle my girlfriend, and at one point stand in the middle of the room with a broom handle and stamp the ground over and over. Finally at 245, everyone was tired of his nonsense and we decided to simply call the party and show everyone the door.

We threw him in a cab, only for him to refuse to tell the driver where he lived and to hurl strings of insults at him in Spanish. My girlfriend ended up paying the cabbie $20 just to get him out of there. We both went home and crashed, our visions of ringing in the new year appropriately long forgotten and the memory of what had been a really great party forever tarnished.

Needless to say, we aren't speaking to this guy anymore.

Anyway, back to the music...I love the album this Mirah track comes from, but find this particular track a little lackluster. It takes an extra-special bit of songwriting to elevate a song that is merely voice and acoustic guitar. Archipelago isn't bad, but it's hardly strong enough to be anything but NPR/Starbucks compilation bait.

Apples in the Trees - Mirah - Advisory Comittee - 2001

If you read this blog, you probably know that I am a fairly cynical person. (Actually, if you read this blog, you probably actually KNOW ME...so that's probably an unneccesary statement). I dislike forced sentimentality or any easy play on my emotions. I find traditions for traditions sake appalling, and I find the state of modern religion to be horrifying.

Having said all that, it might come as something of a surprise that I am a sucker for Christmas. And no, not cause of gifts, I rarely get many. No, I love the whole thing...okay, that's not true either, I hate the crass commercialism of the current incarnation. But I love the spirit of Christmas. The idea of a day in which we celebrate the possibility of good, of charity and love and hope in our darkest hour, the idea that God sent someone to help us...all of this fills me with warmth. I love the lights and the songs and the good cheer. I even love fucking egg nog.

And perhaps absurdly I love A Christmas Carol...and in particular the 1984 made for TV version with the incomporable George C. Scott, which I watched on TV last night.

I remember the Christmas of 1984 when it ran on TV laying on the floor of the living room of my grandmother's house with the other grandchildren (of which I'm the oldest) watching in awe and comforting the younger kids (I was all of 9) during the "scary" parts. And this became a tradition for the may years in which they continued to run it. I remember reading and re-reading the little leather bound copy my grandmother had on her book shelf. To me, this movie is Christmas.

It's memorable for many reasons, probably most for Scott's performance which is never cartoony and just campy enough to be vastly entertaining. You have all of the Dickensian/Victorian trappings...God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Here We Come a Wassaling, bed curtains, Jacob Marley's chains, Mr. Fezzywhig, Belle's punch, Scrooge's maid...and of course Tiny Tim's RIDICULOUS British lisp.

The thing that really struck me the most in this viewing though was that...viewing the film now, as an adult, the reactions of the various characters to the reformed Scrooge are really wonderful. To them, without the benifits of specteral holiday visitors, it must have seemed as if Scrooge has had a stroke and accidentally emerged a better man. They look at him out of the side of their eyes, as if expecting at any moment for the miserable old fuck they knew for all these years to emerge, only to still be talking to this strangely jolly old man. Fred Hollywell can't even figure out why he'd be at the front door. The men from the orphanage wait for the moment where he reveals he's fucking with them, only for it never to come. Bob Cratchit assumes he's about to be fired at any minute.

Really really good stuff, and all in the holiday spirit...and we certainly need that these days. Between world events and the fact that it is 443 PM and already pitchblack here in NYC...we could use a little of the Ghost of Christmas present with his bright torch and jolly ways.

Anyway, this in no way connects to Mirah and her hippie Portland lesbian ways...but while I prefer You Think It's Like This...to the more adventuresome and less succesful Advisory Comittee, this is one of the better songs on the album.

After You Left - Mirah - Advisory Committee - 2001

I've now had 2 Mirah songs and still zero Radiohead songs...this should not be viewed as representative of my musical tastes in general.

This one is short, and is accompanied by an exceptionally ominous bass-y keyboard. Otherwise it isn't even a particularly noteworthy Mirah track.

I stayed in, stayed sober, and went to bed early last night...so I can't even regale you with drunken antics.

Advisory Committee - Mirah - Advisory Committee - 2001

Mirah songs works primarily due to the tension between her gentle indie girl vocals and songwriting and Phil Elvrums crazy production. It seems like such a nice, sweet song, with it's picked acoustic guitar and subdued steel drum backing and then those GIANT FUCKING DRUMS come in at the end...