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But I wanted to let you guys know that yes, I am really embarrassed about this. I know that Linkin Park is an awful band and really, their latest single just makes me cringe (as I sing along under my breath) but honestly, of course I’m going to download the entire DLC pack on Rock Band 3. Of course I’m going to force someone to play with me and of course I am going to sing the vocals. Not harmonies. Solo. On Hard.

So after getting 100% on “Crawling,” of course I am going to take a picture of it and show off how great my impression of Chester Bennington is. Of course I’m going to tell the world. Of course I’m going to lose your respect and perhaps, your friendship. I’m okay with that. Because this is how it’s going to be, at least until they release some 311 songs. Then I’ll be laughing as you guys try to be the next Nick Hexum.

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Cake has a new album out. This makes me a very happy buttface. It’s been about seven years since they came out with their last album, Pressure Chief, which I enjoyed because I am an obsessive fan like that but this new one, Showroom of Compassion totally takes–yes, need I say it–the cake.

My favorite thing about the band is their sound: they’re one of the few bands that doesn’t change or experiment with their music. They have their sound and continue to put out music that stays faithful to whatever their message is, which is usually anti-corporate, pro-environment, homegrown, whatever. I’m so bad when it comes to writing about music, but I do know how frustrated and disappointed I feel whenever a favorite band comes out with a new album and they end up sounding totally different, either super produced and poppy or just….weird. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Beck. We had something special going on back in high school but now you’re just annoying. Or you, Weezer. You guys need to grow up.

Anyway, where was I? Oh. Cake. Anyway, I listened to Showroom of Compassion about a bajillion times so far and I have to say, it’s by far my favorite. The tone is darker but the sound is the same. It’s like getting a nice big hug from an old friend and you realize that despite all the time apart, your relationship has stayed the same: just as fun and amazing, but also refreshingly new. One song, “Long Time” makes my heart pitter-patter and another one, “Got To Move” has enough of their signature internal rhymes to make me smile.

They’re playing five shows at the Troubadour next month, and if I could, I would go to all of them. No, really, I would. But I’ve got bills to pay and have allowed myself to attend one, which marks the 6th time I’ve seen them live. Is that sad? Maybe a little. But I’ve never been disappointed in their performance, and John McCrea always has something to say. Last, last time he told a fan to stop using he flash camera because it was really distracting. Last time he gave away an avocado tree. One time, B and I watched this dirty hippie play along with his drums during the Health and Harmony festival. Now I’m rambling. I should stop. My only excuse is that Nikole and I got our nails done during our lunch break so I think I’ve inhaled a bit too much polish fumes. Yes, that explains it. La la la.

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Say No To Weezer

2010 will be the year I say no to Weezer. Sure, it’s September but I’m putting my foot down now, dammit. My rapport with this band has increasingly become more and more abusive and despite years and years of loving them, I can’t do this anymore.

I’ll admit that their music hasn’t been very strong in the past couple of years, but the the tipping point was Rivers Cuomos’ collaboration with B.O.B. with “Magic” that while undeniably catchy, just pierces my heart with a poisonous arrow. Am I being dramatic? Yes, but I’m heartbroken, so cut me some slack.

In the beginning, it was swell: I loved Weezer and I felt like they really loved me, too. At least, I felt like Rivers was trying to impress me with the Blue album, similar to how that skinny geek in your Geometry class wanted to catch your attention, so he’d gather his other nerdy friends and form a cool band, which they’d debut at the school’s talent show, wowing everyone – cheerleaders included – with their talent. Seeing as how I’ve spent my formative high school years at an all girls school and I barely passed my 8th grade Geometry class, I really have no idea what this scenario would actually be like but I’ve seen my share of teen movies. This is how it works.

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WTF IS THIS CRAP

Isn’t one Justin Bieber enough already!? Let these boys grow one armpit hair before throwing them into the claws of Hollywood.

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This song is perfect for almost everything. Well, maybe not like murdering someone or choking on a hot dog but you get what I’m saying. Yay for Brett! Remember when he gave me a Father’s Day Card? Good times. NOT.

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Oh, dear lord. Tonight I’m going to my very first metal show–and I’m not talking about metal like Pantera or songs about a Sandman entering night or whatever. This is a genre of music that I wouldn’t even refer to as real music, because there’s no melody or discernible lyrics. I’m not prone to psychological symptoms like anxiety attacks or hyperventilating, but Converge is one of those bands that I feel straight up uncomfortable whenever I heard their songs. I can’t even watch this music video for longer than 3 seconds. It’s that awful.

So why am I going? I bought the tickets for B as a birthday present but stupidly put them on will-call under my name, which means that I have to be present (with ID) to pick them up…which means that I have to go. I did try to tell him that I’d be happy to meet him at the theater to get the tickets and wish him a good night so I could go home and enjoy the penultimate episode of Lost but nope, he demanded that I accompany him and I will probably not make it out alive. Or with good hearing.

With a line-up of bands called Lewd Acts, Black Breath and Coalesce, he’s going to owe me HUGE. I’m thinking back to back screenings of Babies, Love Actually and Sex and the City 2.

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There’s a Nike store near the apartment in Tokyo, and I only noticed it because they had a giant rubber model of the Nike Free Run sole hanging from the ceiling to display it’s bendable qualities. I never gave it much thought (except OMG GIANT SNEAKER!!!) until I came across this video of Japanese breakbeat duo Hifana hooking up audio sensors to the shoes and creating this awesome music video.

Speaking of running, this was my first time in Japan that I noticed so many runners around Tokyo. The Kaigakan track was across the street from our hotel, which I thought was a feature that most cities should provide–can you imagine a sidewalk designed to be a running track for the public to use??–and almost hourly were groups of runners, making their laps around the circle. Japanese runners go all out, too. We didn’t see regular people dressed in messy shorts and old t-shirts trying to exercise those love handles off. They were decked out in lycra pants, water bottles and even backpacks. Backpacks. If I had to run with a backpack, I’d make sure it was stuffed with tissues I could use as I sobbed my way around. Sometimes we’d even see the same runners twice during our walks around, because that’s how slow we were. They’d run a quarter of a mile in the same span that we’d walk a block. Insane.

I’m going to go eat some Cheetos now.

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I walked out of my class tonight into an Alex Chilton-less world and though I hadn’t thought of him in a while, I still felt a keen sense of loss. He was just one of those musicians who you knew wrote music with such brilliance but you always assumed they’d be around. I was introduced to Big Star too late, and they easily rated as one of my favorite bands to enjoy, regardless of time, place or mood. They had several of those songs that I instantly fell in love with and liked even more when I found out they were B’s personal favorites as well.

Their music was one of those things we instinctively agreed upon, despite the fact that he loved metal and I refused to let go of Weezer, and that only added to my belief that we were meant to be together. We made sure to include them on our playlist for the wedding reception, even if the songs were too low or soft to be heard over a crowd of conversations and eating. But it didn’t matter, because the songs were special to both of us. Most of the time, we’d sing along in the car or in the bathroom, making up silly replacement lyrics that made no sense. His songs made me pick up the guitar again, as if playing the notes would somehow be the easiest thing in the world for someone who gave up lessons after learning about bar chords. Of course, I put the guitar away just as fast, after realizing that finger picking the strings was harder than I thought. Fast or slow, Alex Chilton’s songwriting meant something more than what most of today’s artists can boast.

Rest in peace. You will be missed but we’ll keep your music alive, even if it’s just me in my car, butchering your beautiful lyrics.

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I Wanna Be Adored

Occasionally, B will disappear with his “guy friends” for 5 hours straight. This is what they do.

Awwww, look. It’s an actual drum set.

So far, all my requests for them to cover Alkaline Trio, Cake and Linkin Park have been ignored.

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Gosship Girl

Is it just me or are they singing “Gosship Girl”? Does speaking Korean give you an American speech impediment? I know nothing about this Rainbow girl group but this whole music looks like an ad for Forever 21 and I can’t even figure out who’s who.

I also have no idea what’s going on in this video. I really thought it was 4 different girls until I realized it was the same girl with 4 different hairstyles. Does that make me racist?

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