Super Mario 64 is thirteen years old. I feel so ancient.

Acid Tongue

Tomorrow will start a new period in my life. I'm a little scared of what could reveal itself from the results, but this is something I know I have to do. For those of you who have never forced yourself to do something beneficial--this may seem odd, but this will be an event of self control which will go unmatched for years to come.

I will not be buying any records in the month of February.

Starting tomorrow, not a penny of my small, disposable income will go towards the purchase of any of those damned vinyl discs. Admittedly, this is not because of a recent falling out between records and me--just the fact that I need to save up some money for my ever-approaching trip to New York. Most likely, I will end up spending at least $100 on vinyl in New York--some of my favorite shops are only found in the great city--but that will be in the month of March.

Yesterday marked my last purchasing excursion to Zia Records for at least a month. I bought the new Jenny Lewis album, The Stand Ins by Okkervil River, and Moondance by Van Morrison--for a grand total of $50.39. Do I regret this decision? Hell no. Because from this point forward, I will not be a slave to my addiction. From this moment on, I will not be controlled by outside sources or promising preview MP3s. Until the ides of March, I will be the master of my own domain.

Oh. Until the copy of Astral Weeks I special ordered comes in next week. That's the only exception.

In fact--I retract my previous statements.

Lilac Wine

I hate being sick. It feels like the life has just been sucked out of me, and I've been left as a useless being at home. I don't like missing school or rehearsal or everything else I was planning on doing today. It's just flat out awful.

Bruce Springsteen's new album Working On a Dream is surprisingly good. When he announced the corny titled and played the eponymous song at an Obama rally--I was a little worried. But all of a sudden, Bruce has gone back to his glory days. The record is very reminiscent of Born to Run, my second favorite Springsteen album. It has a lot of very different, odd instruments--new recording strategies, and some very powerful vocals. The final track, "The Last Carnival," pays homage to the late Dan Federici, who played accordion and organ for the E Street Band for as long as I can remember.

Last night, I was lost in a haze of sickness and lack of sleep. Luckily, Mr. D had just given me back my copy of the Legacy Edition of Grace by Jeff Buckley. I spent the next hour or so completely engulfed in an album that I've listened to so many times. The thing I love about music is how each listener can take something completely different. One of my favorite quotes is from Jeff Buckley himself, when asked what he wanted people to take away from his music...

"Whatever they want."

Shelter From the Storm

Gift giving is so touchy. I feel as if most people have simply given up on trying to express their feelings for someone else through something as simple as a gift. Understandably, I'm not the last person on the planet to really search for the perfect present--but things are getting out of hand. I've always considered my selections to be personal and thoughtful, but the world is starting to turn the other cheek.

At a store next to where I work, there is a sign on the door that announces "Stop spending time looking for the perfect gift--buy a gift card!" How boring. How ridiculous. Everything about giving gifts that I love is slowly being stripped away by corporations and managers begging for gift card sales. Even my own store was pushing those drab pieces of plastic to every other customer.

Admittedly, I almost always end up buying somebody an album--but that album will not just be whatever happens to be popular at the time. It will be a piece of art that I know will affect them as an individual and that I know they will listen to over and over again.

Just yesterday, at a birthday party I was invited to, the recipient received three gift cards and one unwrapped ten dollar bill. Meanwhile, I gave her a copy of The '59 Sound. Granted, I did get some glares at work for buying the album for the third time--but what can I do? Everyone loves it.

Are people just getting lazy--or am I just trying too hard?

Bleedin' Out From All These Wounds

I'm telling myself now that I will update regularly now. A new year has come and practically gone--and I'm afraid at how much has changed. Part of my old-self keeps trying to reason with my new-self about life and comfort and clarity, but neither side can be mature enough to admit that the other is correct. Much like my own personality--even my subconscious is stubborn.

Sometimes I listen to what people tell me about myself. Other times I don't. It's as simple as that. I admit that I'm a horrible snob--but I don't see any reason to try and alter that. And instead of "snobby," I prefer "selective."

While I was writing out my usual list of Top Ten Albums of the Year--namely for 2008, as it was last year--I began to think about how each work inspired my own writing. After being exposed to The Gaslight Anthem sometime in August, I was hooked. It was the modern Springsteen I had been searching for my entire life. Both of their records now sit nicely tucked away in my collection. I finished writing my song for my Senior Project... Should I be capitalizing that? It seems too important not to...

But mixed up in all of the excitement of graduation, life, and music--I'm still able to hold on to what matters most. I'm not exactly sure what that is yet--but my song definitely does.