Thad Cockrell's new rock band, Leagues. I saw them Friday at Mercy Lounge and I can't turn these four songs off. It's gotten under my skin in the very best way. Thad's familiar, heart-breaking, shimmery vocal has been yanked up from its usual simple, sweet, folk-y, harmonically-inclined home base. Now, wrapped all around with driving, poppy beats to which my toes could not keep from tapping and the ambience of an electric guitar's echoes, he still somehow maintains that inherent, unmistakable spirit of sweet. He couldn't lose it if he dropped it on its head from a fast-moving train on a moonless night -- it would find him. I found a perpetual, giddy smile on my face as he hopped percussively around and danced with his microphone and his audience members, wrinkled that charming nose of his and punctuated the air with his yearning-but-hopeful cries. All of this, packed richly with illustrative words. "I thought I saw you in the fields of the midwest, golden fingers in the wind waving, 'follow me'..." Uh, whew. Thad and his salt-worthy bandmates lavish on their audience everything they want and didn't know they wanted and then some....except for more than a mere four songs on the current record. I. Want. More. (insert stomping feet here.) This man, he loves his work. And so does this girl.
F. Scott Fitzgerald. He was a weird guy, more than a little snarky. And I like it.
"Cut out all these exclamation points. An exclamation point is like laughing at your own joke."
"Nothing is as obnoxious as other people's luck."
"I like people and I like them to like me, but I wear my heart where God put it, on the inside."
Coccoina adhesive paste. It's been used by pretty little Italian school children since way back in 1927. Why does Europe have to be so much cooler than us all the damned time? It comes in this cute little tin with a natural bristle brush which fits down in a little cylindrical compartment in the middle of the paste. How fun! It smells like sweet almonds, like marzipan. Mmm. I can't get enough of marzipan or anything almond-y, and I know I'm not in the majority. It's my one allowance in a lifelong march against sweet smells. I don't know what makes it passable, but oh, I love it. I first bought a tin at Kate's Paperie in Soho way back on a college trip to NYC. It stayed with me for a couple of years before it began to harden and crack. Sadness and a pretty glue void in my life, until today. Remember the old [what I hope is an] urban myth about eating paste? You just might consider it if this stuff is on the table in front of you.
Not looking forward to:
Sweltering heat. (I'm sorry, this photo popped up on google when I was entering different adjectives for heat and I couldn't resist. I mean, what the hell?!?) Ironic that the tail end of August has been pleasanter than any I can recall and that the beginning of September is going to be a little bit brutal. Well, at least I can be.....
Looking forward to:
Pool time on Saturday. Yesssssss. Gurgle gurgle, splosh splash.
Peace out, suckas.