Staying In with Quiet Company

or baby's first album review

Okay, so I was invited to download and review the latest EP from an Austin-based band, Quiet Company. Okay... so it was via Twitter and literally EVERYONE was invited to review their work, but I like to think of it as a special invitation because my musical taste is so spectacular and they trust my opinion and its power to sway thousands...hundreds...tens...a couple readers.

Whatever.

Anywho, I've never reviewed music in print before, and I don't know all the buzz phrases like "...the surging two-track riffs supply a dazed patter of blistering chords snuggled between cuts that lead the listener to a hodge-podge of clashing styles pairing a full-bodied finish of cherry & spicy wood notes that tickle the palate as the tanins explode in a rich bouquet.." Oh wait. I'm mashing up Fa-Fa Wine Speak with Music Review Bullshite. My bad.

In any case, I may not know how to talk the talk, but I do know what I like. And I like this EP. A lot. For realz. It makes me happy. I just might lick its face.

Quiet Company's latest is a six song effort entitled "Songs for Staying In" and it is absolutely terrific! Pop music at its finest. No elusive meanings, no drama, no crazy veiled references that have you scratching your head wondering what the hell the point is... just straight-up, unadulterated pop songs about love, longing and loss set to irresistibly buoyant, upbeat melodies.

From the sweetness of everlasting love in the delightful Hold My Head Above the Water to the pain of yearning for the love of an unworthy Puta in Jezebel to the suggestion of an evening home alone with the playful promise of more than a night of TV viewing-- if you know what I mean, and I think you do--in If You Want, this EP delivers. Who could resist the argument to stay in when it's wrapped in such a charming pop package.

"Songs For Staying In" is a fabulous disc worthy of your hard earned cash, and a perfect follow up to their prior outstanding offering "Everyone You Love Will Be Happy Soon".

So come on. Support some fantastic local musicians on the ground level. You never know. They could turn out to be the next Spoon. They're already kind of a big-ish deal in Austin. Maybe your support can convince them to tour the rest of the country. Plus they give free hugs. Bonus.

You can pre-order/purchase both of these dynamite discs at their website www.quietcompanymusic.com. They've been putting up videos of each song for all to enjoy--one per week--prior to the official release date & swinging soiree of May 11th.

So what are you waiting for? Get off your collective asses, jump on the link above and order their EP already. You know I'm just going to sit here and badger you until you at least give them a listen. Seriously. You know I will. I have no life so I have all the time in the world to pester you. Yep.

Did you do it yet? How about now. Come on. You know you want to. *poke* *poke*

Friday Photo #39

(but who's counting.. obviously you, moron)

Oookay. Sure.

I spotted this sign in Penn Station last December when we were waiting for our train back to New Jersey. I don't even really know what this means, but it sounded kind of dirty so naturally I took a picture of it. Because as you all know, that's how I roll... or wrap as the taco goes.

Some People's Kids

or some hilarious tales of the tots

Okay, so George and I weren't able to have our own kids. As you may know, it's absolutely the only thing in my life I regret.

It sucks.

You can read all about my whining, belly aching and crying in my proverbial beer here. (P.S.: Isabel is pregnant again! Here's hoping she carries to term. And Jimmy MacParkway...you are the sweetest thing, my friend. Thank you. Same for you Jenna.)

That said, I love hearing other parent's tales of their tots and stealing ...er, BORROWING those charming chestnuts for blogger fodder. Two such anecdotes come from our morning anchor team who have eight children between them.

Yes. Eight. Children.

How lucky are they. Anywho, they've related a couple of gems surrounding their kids which I'd like to share here.

Boogie Down, BABY!!

So one day Jen, who has four boys and a lone girl ranging from 12-5 years of age, finally found a proper fitting bra and gutchies. For a girl this is HUGE. Am I right, ladies? Seriously. It's humiliating to try on bra after bra after bra in a cramped room under the sickly, greenish glow of a half-lit florescent light in front of a fun-house-fatty mirror where every bulge, blemish and Crypt-Keeper crease slaps you in the face like a cartoon iron skillet. It's a harsh world in the Devil's dressing room. So, you know, it's damned exciting when you find a perfect fit. It's like winning the lottery. A cottony soft to the touch lottery.

Moving on...

Jen was so excited about her purchase, she wanted to share her excitement with her seven year old daughter, Grace. Dressed in only her lovely lingerie, she ran to model for her baby girl, to which Grace in not-so-mock revolt exclaimed, "Oh, Mom! Stop it. You're making me sick!!"

Not to be deterred, Jen decided to gauge the other kiddoes reactions. Why, you may ask. Why parade around in your panties before the males of the household? ...Why not?

Next, #3 son gagged in horror, #2 son gasped-then paused and gave her a big thumbs up "Hey, you're looking good, Mom." (#2 son is totally destined to be the lady-killer of the family) #1 son demanded an air gun as restitution for being permanently scarred by her scantily clad presence.

Finally, she reached the living room where her husband and youngest son (a five year old) were sorting laundry. She burst into the room, dancing in her brand-spanking-new unmentionables. Her husband groaned and shook his head. The little nipper looked up, blinked, jumped to his feet, whipped off his pants revealing his uber stylin' Sponge Bob BVDs and started to dance right alongside her!!

Woooo Hooo! Underoo Dance Par-tay!

HaHaHAHAHA!!

I LOVE this kid!! He is so going to be the toga wearing, table dancing, life of the party in college. Just sayin'.

Pants On The Ground

This one comes from our Morning Male Man, Rick. He and his family--he has three boys--were eating dinner out when the youngest, who was two at the time, needed to use the restroom. His six year old brother offered to do the honors.

So off they go to the men's room. A little while later the six year old returns to the table...sans two year old. Before they could question the youngster, the toddler emerges doing the penguin walk with his pants on the ground, Mr. Happy waving to the waitstaff, arms outstretched, declaring "HEY! A little help here!?!"

HAHA! You gotta love two-year-olds. They are completely unfiltered... and adorable.

Stories like these just warm my cold, crusty heart and make me snort. Some people's kids are hilarious!

Friday Video #...whatever (who gives a flying ef)

or Another reason why I LOVE playoff hockey

Okay, so I was at the gym today... yeah. me. at the gym. I know, right? Don't laugh. Sometimes I actually make good on my promises. Anywho...

So I'm at the gym and I see this video on SportsCenter. You gotta love hockey fans. A couple of Canucks fans dress in green spandex and taunt the losers in the penalty box. (P.S.: click on the video to watch it in its full HD glory on YouTube)

Oh.Mi.GOD...

First of all--green spandex...in pubic, er... I mean public... that's hardcore, Dude not to mention Hi-Larious! This is just so wrong, that it is completely right. The Cat doing the Mary Lou Retton handstand just KILLS ME!!

And people think Penguins fans are intense.

Long live the green men! Oh and Let's Go Pens!!

This Segment is Brought To You By The Letters W-T-F

or whattup with Sesame Street, Dawg?

Okay, so I don't watch Jimmy Kimmel, but thank goodness some of my friends do...or at least they search for him on YouTube. One of the standard features on Jimmy Kimmel Live is a segment called "Unnecessary Censorship".

This week's clip centers around that beloved children's educational institution, Sesame Street. Who knew that seemingly benign byway was filled with nothing but filthy whores and skanks? Yeah. They be schoolin' yo' kid, Sucka. Uh-huh.

Ha Ha! Once again, thanks to that *BLEEP*-er, Jimmy McParkway for the 411.

In Which It's All Fun And Games...

Until The Dog's Ashes Spill On The Table

Okay, so following in my Mom, Big Mar's footsteps, my sister and I belong to a so-called "Card Club". Seven of us ladies get together every month to bond through the consumption of copious amounts of chocolates and cocktails. There is no room for cards or games on our table. There are too many liquor bottles, er... I mean plates of food.

This is not your Mother's Card Club, bee-yatch.

No. This is how we modern middle-agers blow off steam and safely realign our perspectives so as not to, you know, stab somebody (aka husbands, bosses, children) in the eye. Generally, much like Vegas, what happens in Card Club stays in Card Club, but...

Last night we chickies were hanging out, doing what we do, having a great time yakking when the conversation turned to, of all things, cremation.

I know. Weird, right? I was there and even I don't know how we got there.

Anywho, the discussion was motoring along when Kathy-the hostess for this sorority soiree-dashes out of the room returning with what looks like an elongated foam Big Mac carton containing the remains of her dearly-departed dog, Elsa.

I admit it. Curiosity got the best of us.

She lifted the ash-filled Ziploc baggie from the packaging, rolled it over and over in her hands. We all leaned in closer to examine the dusty bits.

And that's when it happened...

Our screams echoed through the housing plan, startling bats into flight.

You know it's time to put the wine back in the fridge when the doggie dust get dumped on the table. Just sayin'.

Clearly, we need adult supervision.

Easter Weekend Rhett Fest 2010 (Part Deux)

in which I am a complete girlie gushing a-hole

Okay, so after witnessing a spectacular 33 song concert by one of the best entertainers ever, we packed up our crap and headed south to Annapolis, MD for part two of our festival of all things Rhett Miller.

We've never been to the Cadet Capital, and were really impressed by its beauty. I love harbor towns. They're so charming and quaint. Besides I'm an Aquarian--I'm drawn to water. We stayed at a B & B in State Circle which ended up being literally two blocks away from the club. Perfect. We always prefer being walking distance from bars. It allows us to over imbibe if we so choose with no risk of, you know, mowing someone over with the car.

Anywho, after walking about, drinking in the ambiance and such of the marina--OMG! there were so many great dogs and babies... lots and lots of adorable babies. I'm in some kinda weird I-heart-all-babies-and-dogs phase...could be my age...could just be the alcohol--we headed over to the restaurant for a pre-dinner cocktail.

And it was powerfully potent!! The barkeep was deliciously heavy-handed on the hootch. By the time we went inside for our meal, I was slurring a bit.

One drink and I'm slurring?!? What the? I think I'm slipping. Clearly, I need to practice more.

Moving on...

So Geo and I are sitting around waiting for our food when my loving hubby looks up and says "Oh, hi Rhett."

*blink* *blink* Wha...?

Lo and behold, there's the lovely blue-eyed one and Mike standing in front of us. Apparently I walked right past them on my way back from the ladies. I didn't even see them, which is probably a good thing because I'm sure I would have made a complete monosylabic, moronic arse of meself, what with the whole I'm-tipsy-and-can't-feel-my-face thing that was going on with me at the time.

So after hugs all around (as you know by now, I hug..I like to hug...I'm a hugger), Mr. Wonderful sweetly asks us if we'd like to request a song for the set list.

Um.... Hellz to the YEAH!!

How cool is that? We both throw out titles and Sr. Miller graciously notes them. We yakked a bit more, then off they went to whatever mysterious holding pen performers retire to prior to taking the stage.

It was really kind of him to ask for a request. I remember the first time we saw him in Hoboken, he was just standing around at the bar talking to a fan when I mustered up the courage to go over and speak to him. After a brief conversation, he asked if I wanted to suggest a song, which I did--the lovely Sweet Thing, Pine Bluff...

I remember being so excited when he played my song that night. I felt so special. He even shared an entertaining story to go along with it. Just another one of the reasons I find him so dear. It's such a small gesture-asking for a request, but it goes a long way towards cultivating adoration in one's fan base.

*SIGH*

Oh Lord. I'm making myself gag with the gushing. But I can't help it. He is kinda perfect, especially when he's being darlingly awkward. Sorry. I can't stop. It's a sickness.

OHMIGOD! You would not believe the flurry of chatter their little visit caused after they left. The two tables around us were just all a twitter. The conversation with our surrounding dinner mates went on for quite a while. I totally understand. If that interaction with Rhett and Mike happened around us, I would have totally jumped into a conversation with those lucky folks, too.

Anywho...

We took our seats against the wall behind where he would be standing. The Ram's Head On Stage (which oddly had no ram's head on the stage) is the polar opposite of John & Peter's. It holds around 300 people. The ceiling is high, the room is big and airy and Dude, there was no smoking. YeeHaw! Plus no crazy-ass screaming man in glass.

The opening act was a young band from Brooklyn called Eyton and the Embassy. They're a pop band with a sound at times similar to Ben Lee. Good compliment to Rhett's music.

After the break, Rhett quietly took the stage and hit the ground running with a raucous rendition of "The Fool". I'm always surprised that no one introduces the headliner at these little clubs. It seems odd to me that the musician(s) just sort of amble up on stage unannounced and have to get the audience's attention by strumming a chord or two.

The crowd was terrific, completely into the show. Again the mood was light and playful, lending to a fabulous rapport with the audience and a bounty of brilliant banter. At one point a fella in the back screamed that sitting sucks. Our quick-witted crooner tossed back an hilarious rift of ribbing. He's getting really good at that. Perhaps stand-up is in his future.

Interspersed in the evening's 22 song set, four song encore were the three songs we requested... "Point Shirley" and "Murder or a Heart Attack" for Geo; and perhaps the sweetest tune Rhett has ever penned, "Lashes" for me. Plus he dishes some more with the anti-sitting man.

Somehow he spotted us in the audience and gave us a little nod of recognition after each one.

*Major SWOON*

(Sorry. Doing it again. I really can't help it.)

Did you see that at the end there? That glance...that was for Geo.

One young woman in the audience tweeted hearing Rhett Miller sing "Question" in French changed her life. Yeah. I can understand that. I got bit bad after our first concert. Now any day I get to stand in front of him (or to the side of him) and watch him sing is a pretty damned terrific day.

That's us standing behind her while she's having her moment with the man of the hour.

Oh and hey.. check out this photo Geo snapped while we were waiting around after the show. See. I'm not the only one who can't control the urge to kiss on him.

You go, Girl! Ha Ha!

He is such a great sport, and so nice about it all. He gets the equation, you know. Kindness + graciousness + accessibility = unwavering loyalty from fan base. That little extra effort and the love comes back to him tenfold.

Alright..enough the icky talk...back to the videos. Here are some other fun moments from the Ram's Head show.

Cadet talk and "Too Far To Care"

A great bit about Good Friday before "No Baby I"

Hover

One of these days I would love to plant our asses on a bar stool next to him, crack open a bottle of Jameson for him--Stoli for us and spend an evening just shooting the shit about anything and everything. Would that not totally rock, or what?

Seriously.