Saturday, August 6, 2011

Oh, Man Man.


Dear Globlets,

I hate it when I think to myself, "OH! I should write about [this] later!" Because I never really know when I'm actually going to. The best thing is to write about it the moment I get the idea, but when I'm grocery shopping, or driving to Costco, or watching cash and running clothes back to the sales floor and attending to customers all at the same time, it's not always easy to access a laptop, or even a notebook. All I can do sometimes is make a mental note:
- bitch about waste due to unnecessary/excessive packaging
- bitch about forgetting mental notes
- bitch about bitches who bitch all the time

But not this time. This time, I write within minutes of having the idea.

As you may or may not know, I already bought myself a most magnificent super-early birthday present: a beautiful pen. While some people might think, "A pen? Really? You paid $80 for a pen? You know you can get a pack of twenty at Staples for $15 right?" And to those people I would reply with a large, "Fuck you. Just- Take it. Write something!" And they would, and they, too, would know the magnificence of my super-early birthday present.

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Well, that went well. See how I began this post talking about how it's best to write the moment you get an idea? I wrote that FOUR DAYS AGO. Well done me. At least this time around I'm not leaving the half-written post to rot in my drafts folder.

Post continued...
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While on my break at work, I wandered the halls of the mall, daring not to enter any but two stores: La Vie en Rose (I know, I know! Where did my La Senza loyalty go?) and HMV. There's a bra at La Vie en Rose that I'll get once I've paid for school as it's what I've been looking for for ages, and there's a CD at HMV that I already knew existed, that I've already held in my hand, that I'd already set back down on the shelf with a heavy sigh when I convinced myself against spending the $20 the first time around. There's a CD at HMV that I went in specifically for, remembering exactly which shelf on which I had put it back. I've already listened to all the songs on the CD. I've already done the math: 13 songs to $20 is more than I might pay per song on iTunes. I've already found a way to listen to all the songs on all the albums I want FOR FREE ONLINE. But no. That damn sly HMV salesperson said it herself: "If you get it on iTunes, you won't be able to physically hold the CD in your hands." So, I thought to myself, "You're right, Damn Sly HMV Salesperson (that's what it said on the name tag). I'll take it. IT'S MY BIRTHDAY IN TWO MONTHS ANYWAY." That's close, right?

The worst part is that I literally just checked how much the album costs on iTunes. I guess I paid $7 more for the physical case, CD, and scary poster that will totally go with my room decor. I already have skulls littering my walls. 'CAUSE I AM BAD ASS. And by "bad ass" I mean "lying." I must have only looked at the individual song prices, which are over 99 cents per song, which makes the physical CD package seem more worth it. On the bright side, I am supporting a fantastic artist that I discovered by chance.

Justification process complete.

The artist is Man Man. I purchased their album "Life Fantastic."

I discovered them through grooveshark.com (internet radio), and while the Indie station is "meh" 99% of the time and forces me to listen to the band Fun no matter how many unhappy faces I give it, Grooveshark randomly decided to play some weird music where the lead singer sings with a bizarre hoarse voice laced with beautiful consonance and wretched dissonance played by any and every instrument, though primarily piano, in a style that would best suit a carnival... where someone perhaps sacrifices some livestock. I don't know.

I like the HMV description of their album "Rabbit Habits":

What a difference two years makes. In 2006, Philadelphia wierdos Man Man released their second album, an off-the-wall slab of musical insanity as confusing as it was arresting. In 2008, a move to a bigger label finds the highly theatrical band fully utilizing all the tricks in its bag (cartoon percussion, Tom Waits-like junkyard/thrift-shop arrangements, twisted carnival atmospheres, and an Animal Collective-like penchant for experimentation) without losing focus on their songs or their overall sound. While a freewheeling, try-anything-once aesthetic reigns, it's utilized in service of carefully constructed songs whose structure remains at the center of every track. RABBIT HABITS is the sound of an expansive, anarchic ensemble finding its feet and using its outsider orientation to both push existing boundaries and forge powerful new ideas.


Here's a description for the Life Fantastic album.

When I first heard some of their songs, I didn't like it. I didn't like the guy's voice, and I couldn't stand the chaos of it all. Funny enough, the beauty among the chaos was what later drew me in, and I don't say that metaphorically. I literally mean there are parts of songs that are just fucking amazing to listen to, while others make your ears suffer a little. But it hurts so good. Especially when you know the next verse will take you back to that fucking amazing sound you previously heard.

That's what I like to hear in music: pain and suffering. Sure, make me suffer with you a little, but only because I know you'll reward me in thirty seconds with a bridge to absolutely die for. This isn't Pearl Jam or ACDC (Sorry, Marissa), where the suffering extends throughout the entirety of each song and drives a person to suicide.

Let me explain.

Fun:

When I hear this I can't help but think, "PLEASE, PLEASE MAKE THE GODDAMN JOY AND HAPPINESS STOP!" Which is probably bad... but true. It's too happy. I hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it. Somebody needs to rip out this person's heart, trample on it, and make him eat what's left of it with a huge side of peas, because seriously. Stop. being. so. happy. I can't take it. I don't know why.

Compare it to Man Man:

This is a favourite:

And sure it starts happyish enough, but
"He don't even taste the food he eats anymore
There's a space in place where his heart was before
He don't even taste the food he eats anymore
And she don't want to dine alone
And he don't want to die alone
And she wants to live to eat."

This one is beautiful:

"Who... are we / to love / at all?"

And I looooooove this one - Haute Tropique:

I visualize choreography to it. It's one of my all-time favourites.

Steak Knives:


And the one that got me hooked - Engrish Bwudd:

- "Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an English man!"

My favourite. (The youtube video isn't so good.)


I feel like I've been good enough to purchase the remaining albums on iTunes now: I've promoted them and I've purchased their latest CD at regular price. I'm sorry I can't afford the other physical CDs at regular price, but until Man Man/HMV makes them almost the same price as buying them from iTunes and making my own CD, I can't be expected to pay $2 per song. i need 2 pay 4 skool 1st c?

OH. And guess who discovered them the WEEK AFTER they played in Vancouver? +1 I guess I'll have to catch up with them in Spain... for my birthday... They'll be there in September! But the question is... Where will the lottery money be?


It's midnight. I hope you're happy.

3 comments:

Marissa, the giant squid. said...

Hola.

First off, might I say I'm not a fan of Pearl Jam? But thats aside the point >.< Man Man is totally terrific, they sort of to me sound like what an american invasion could of possibly sounded like in 1960 if it was any good.(With a more scroungy damage vibe)
Engrish Bwudd always sounded to me like it belonged in Clock-Work Orange.
Hugs and kisses
-Marissa

Ori. said...

Haha... then the apology is only for ACDC. :P I have yet to see Clockwork Orange, but I think I need to be in the right mindset for that. But I know of it and hear what you're saying - both about American invasions and Engrish Bwudd.

Thanks for reading and for sharing. :)

Paul said...

CDs sound better than MP3, you're better off.