This does not make me swoon

Apparently Ben Gibbard (Death Cab for Cutie & The Postal Service) and Jay Farrar (Son Volt & Uncle Tupelo) are collaborating to create an album dedicated to Jack Kerouac, the lyrics of which being taken from Kerouac's novel Big Su. Read about it here. This, to me, is about the most drab, banal tribute possibly ever constructed.

Now to preface, I'm not the biggest Kerouac fan, although I sort of have to be an admirer of his for his accomplishments, but that's an entirely different conversation. That being said, from what I've read, Kerouac was an intellectual giant, an undeniable presence who, regardless of your feelings about his work, created work that was astonishingly new; It was the impetus, it was the vanguard, at least to a certain extent. Now, no offense to the two collaborators, but they're hardly Kerouac, and I'd venture to guess they would be the first to admit that. But to salvage words from a novel written in 1962 and juxtapose them against some of the most trite pop music being created today (as evidenced here) seems, if nothing else, a bit off.

I understand their desire to embody the feeling and presence of a man they obviously admire, but fulfilling that embodiment here goes only half way; the half which Kerouac realized himself with the words from Big Su. These songs will not embody Kerouac's philosophies/feelings/presence, if anything they will only attempt to diminish them. Luckily for Kerouac and those of us who have a respect for the new, these songs will likely only ping off the legitimacy of Kerouac's work. Maybe the album will be played in Urban Outfitters the next time I'm buying a pair of wayfarer sunglasses. That's my embodiment. I'm no Kerouac either.

The Devil

played by Tom Waits. I'm into it.

I Stumbled Upon Myself

I searched, "'Kyle Crawford' + Nebraska" on Google's News Archive search option and found a picture that I'm sure will interest those of you who know me. I was young, naive, a democrat, and an avid listener of mediocre indie-rock. Here I am registering people to vote. Yes that is my hair (on a tame day).



You have no idea how rare photos of me during this period of my life are. I could head-bang the shit out of that hair. (me on the right)

Oh Vollmann

William T. Vollmann has a new book coming out. It's called Imperial, and it's weighty. It costs $55 and is 1,300 pages long — "so heavy, he observed recently, that if you dropped it, you’d break a toe."

Whores for Gloria was insanely beautiful and terrifying. The Atlas has more interest in it than any collection of stories I've ever picked up; a truly educational experience in some of the most banal, unexpectedly-interesting topics.

The New York Times explores his new book here. The man is his own.

"He acknowledged that the length of Imperial might cost him readers but said: 'I don’t care. It seems like the important thing in life is pleasing ourselves. The world doesn’t owe me a living, and if the world doesn’t want to buy my books, that’s my problem.'"

Yo La Tengo

Yo La Tengo is coming to The Slowdown in Omaha on October 9, 2009. I feel like this blog occasionally turns into a perpetual advertising machine. Sorry. Yo La Tengo is one of the only bands I'd like to see in person at this point in my life. Listen to a track off of their new album that has not been released yet, here.

I'm going to post a couple blog friendly (format wise) poems soon. That should make up for it.

For Jeff and Jason and Sondra

In the Carolinas

The lilacs wither in the Carolinas.
Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins.
Already the new-born children interpret love
In the voices of mothers.

Timeless mother,
How is it that your aspic nipples
For once vent honey?

The pine tree sweetens my body
The white iris beautifies me.

- Wallace Stevens



Bantam in Pine-Woods

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
Of tan with henna hackles, halt!

Damned universal cock, as if the sun
Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.

Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.
Your world is you. I am my world.

You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!
Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines,

Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs,
And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.

- Wallace Stevens

Both of these poems were included in Stevens' first collection of poems, Harmonium. According to Stevens' wikipedia page,"Most of Harmonium's poems were published between 1914 and 1923 in various magazines, so most are now in the public domain in America and similar jurisdictions, as the Sonny Bono Copyright Term Extension Act affects only works first published after 1922."

So there you have it. You have no excuse. Check it out, those of you. So good.

100th Post!

In honor of this 100th post (as arbitrary as that sounds), I'm going to plug some films that are either at The Ross currently, or are going to be there in the coming weeks. Apparently due to budget cuts at the University of Nebraska - Lincoln, the future of The Ross is in jeopardy. I don't really know the specifics of the situation, nor do I really know what I (or anyone else for that matter) can do to help the cause. I do know, however, that going to see films there in the coming weeks couldn't hurt their cause, and might possibly even help. Given the no lose scenario I just set up for you, check out these titles:

Anvil: The Story of Anvil (showing June 26 - July 9)

- Essentially a 50/50 mix of Spinal Tap and The Wrestler. Supposed to be absolutely fantastic.

Whatever Works (showing July 3 - July 9)

- Woody Allen's new film starring Larry David. Intriguing if nothing else, right?

Moon (showing July 10 - July 23)

- I think I've mentioned this movie on this BLOG a couple months ago or so. Shenanigans on the moon. Shit is dramatic. Looks like a looker. Check out the trailer.

Tyson (showing July 24 - July 30)

- For the shear novelty of Mike Tyson I'm going to see this film. Dude bit someones ear off and has a tribal tattoo on his face. Gotta be some sort of crazy. Check out some of the interviews he has done on YouTube for a better understanding of his personality. He is an island.