Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Mother Grandma

Tonight I feel like I'm about two steps away from wearing a housecoat, bonnet, and slippers 24/7 and offering strangers freeze-dried fruit and stories about the good ol' days. I am becoming Mother Grandma.

For my birthday this year, my friend D the Williamsburger very kindly gave me two homemade DVDs. On them were no fewer than 2,188 songs that he had burned from his computer. We're talking all the "good music" I should have been listening to in my youth but somehow couldn't find the time or the will: Radiohead. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Miles Davis. Sonic Youth. Don't get me wrong: I know my Ella from my Billie, and I like alterna-music. It's just that my tastes don't diverge much from compact discs released between 1994 and 1998. (And a college boyfriend who told me my musical tastes sucked didn't help things much.)

I am neither musically nor technologically savvy anymore. Figuring out how to install the songs into my iTunes player was hard enough for me. D had to walk me through the whole process over IM. But even tonight, as I sat down to listen to some tunes and was faced with hundreds of songs on my computer screen, I became overwhelmed. I got a little nervous. What if I played Thom Yorke and hated him? How long was it going to take me to listen to one of these albums, let alone all of them? What if my musical education has been irreparably altered by my not caring about "cool bands" in college (or, um, ever)? So I took a deep breath and selected a Tool song. I became impatient and paused it. I selected a Spoon song. I became impatient and paused it. And then I selected one of the only songs I knew from all 2,188 selections: "Gold Digger" by Kanye West.

Lulled into relaxation by baby mama drama, I became confident enough to surf on over to iTunes and download an album by The Knife, which is a kick-ass band. But iTunes was confusing. All the albums by The Knife were released in 2006 or 2007, according to the screen. There were lots of options. And cover art. And buttons. And holy...hell. I was hyperventilating again. Which music site was I supposed to look at again to figure out which Knife album was the coolest? Pitchfork? Stereogum? Some other blog? And should I even be spending my money on this stuff? Shouldn't I be reading Twain or at least Bookslut?

And then, when I thought it couldn't get any worse, my cell phone rang. And I was saved from my own ignorance.

I will never be a hipster at this rate.

I will never even be a cool grandma at this rate.

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Monday, December 18, 2006

Drat! Foiled Again (By Those Nosy Hipsters).

Those wry and witty hipster kids over at Gawker quasi-stole my idea today, as evidenced here. But I'm not mad; the concept of a Mounted Deer Head Necklace is so ridiculous it deserves as many mocking posts as it can garner -- or "lock," as it were. By the way, is anyone else baffled by the fact that two different companies make two different versions of this bizarre, overpriced bauble?

You know you want to see the picture of the one from Daily Candy again:











And here's the new Gawker-endorsed one:









Oh, yeah. That's the stuff. Santa, you're listening, right?

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Friday, December 15, 2006

Hipster Karaoke!

My set list tonight at hipster karaoke in Williamsburg was as follows:

1. "Black Velvet" by Alannah Myles
2. "Doll Parts" by Hole
3. "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey

Few things make me happier than free pizza, cheap beer, and seeing hipsters spin around and around until they fall down. Additionally, I saw a beautiful Middle-Eastern girl who I swore for two seconds was one of my favorite bloggers but probably was not.

Oh, also:

Dear Karen O./Chrissie Hynde/Pat Benetar Girl,

I am sorry I kissed your boyfriend, the karaoke DJ guy, on the cheek after I sang the Hole song. He sort of swooned and asked for one, and he was really cute, and I didn't realize you were right there, and I really had no business kissing anyone because I have a Boyf of my own. Your striped dress was very pretty-slash-adequately weird for the look you're going for, and I enjoyed your rendition of "I Love Rock & Roll." Now please don't hurt me if you ever see me in the bar again. Okay?

Platonic Kisses,
Newbie

P.S. But your boyfriend is REALLY HOT. Just sayin'.

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