The Hot Half Life of Amber Valentine

You Can Still Ruin My Day.

2010-09-09T04:57:00.007-05:00

There's a reason behind the lengthy Hot Half Life silence. I could blame it on Radio Free Chicago taking up all my time or a busy social schedule but the fact of the matter is, I've spent a disgusting amount of time over the past ten days writing blog posts on the same subject and relegating them to drafts, never to be published. All about a boy.

It's a long story and it's sadly one that can never be told in a public forum because, well, he'll read it. His friends will read it. Because they're my friends too and they do that sort of thing. And sadly, every time I launched into anything regarding him, an anecdote or a scenario or even generalizations, it was glaringly transparent who it was about. To make the whole thing veiled and to put it in a nutshell, I got my heart bruised up pretty bad by a guy who was shockingly cavalier when I met him, put on a beautiful dog and pony show to ensure I fell for him, and promptly, unceremoniously discarded me when he was through. To say more wouldn't be prudent but honestly, I didn't realize how much I had cared for the guy until recently. I mean, it makes sense that I was crazy about him. I'd never wanted to be in a real relationship until I met him. But the way he talked, the way we bantered about music, his attentive nature, the gentlemanly exterior that was dropped the minute he'd boned me, all changed my mind. I wasn't in love with him. But I could have been. He changed my feelings towards relationships. So it only makes sense that he changed me as well.

You see, I used to be cool. I used to be calm and collected and sassy and self assured and bubbly and I never second guessed myself. I was happy and excitable and always looking on the bright side. My optimism was a little disgusting.

Now, I'm neurotic. I second guess everything I do. I pour over conversations and text messages, picking apart what I sad and trying to find reasons for the guy I'm sort of pretty into right now to dislike me. I'm always prepared for the worst, as if I know it's coming. I constantly worry, I'm nervous and frazzled and needy and pathetic. And I hate it.

I didn't even realize I'd become this way until I "moved on". And coming to the realization that I was different, especially so drastically, made me angry.

But I'm not angry anymore.

I think it was Proust that said "The whole world needs an anthem." Well, either him or Phantom Planet. Same thing, really. Regardless of who said what, it's true. No matter what situation I'm going through, the moment I find a song I can relate to, everything suddenly makes sense. Tonight, I was writing another blog post about this boy that I ended up scrapping and I was listening to Jon Brion when suddenly, I realized something: I had my song.

Jon Brion - Ruin My Day

Jon Brion's Meaningless is one of my favorite albums of all time. It's definitely top ten, if not top five and usually, when someone loves that album the way I do, I end up giving them more leeway as a person than maybe I should. Meaningless has the same affect on me as Black Sheep Boy. It's an album that encompasses a huge chunk of my life and, as is evident now, continues to be incredibly important.

I was having trouble finding anything I could relate to. It was almost as frustrating as being unable to write about my personal turmoil. Every song I heard seemed to be about being wronged and being hung up on that person who decimated the narrator's heart. I was wronged, sure. But I wasn't hung up on him. In fact, I really don't find him all that attractive anymore and I find it ridiculous how I used to fawn over him so.

"Ruin My Day", however, isn't about being still in love. It's about being completely out of love, sort of bitter about what transpired, and, despite your eagerness to let go of everything, finding yourself unable to because you were sort of put through the ringer.

I don't wait by the phone like I used to. I don't hope for kind words he might say. He doesn't prey on my mind like he used to but he can still ruin my day.

And I'm not angry about it.

If You Believe In Something Beautiful, Then Get Up And Be It.

2010-08-19T21:56:00.006-05:00

My humor is one of my best qualities. That and my optimism. No matter what shitty situation I'm in, I manage to always find a way to crack and joke and look on the bright side. It could be worse, couldn't it? It could always be worse.

That being said, I have real problems too. Sure, I like to dwell on the ones that are, in the long run, more insignificant: Ah, man, I don't have a boyfriend. Man, I wish I could have a good time without drinking. Dang, I wish I had more time to write what's in my head. Those things don't matter. At the end of the day, yes, I've got no one to kiss, I drink a little more often than I should, and even though I write every day, I still have more ideas in my head than there are hours to get them out.

But there are problems that have more gravity than any of that, problems that don't go away, problems that make "looking on the bright side" nearly impossible.

I don't like to talk about it because, let's face it, it's not a topic most want to hear but I've struggled with eating disorders for more than half my life. There's no one reason for this. I can't blame it on my parents or on ballet class or on being fat because I've always been a twig of a thing. In fact, right now, at 5'6" and 120 pounds, I'm the heaviest I've ever been in my life. For the most part, I'm okay with that but the fact of the matter is that I have very literal skeletons in my closet and they haunt me every time I get dressed, every time I get undressed, every time I look in the mirror.

I started out an anorexic in middle school, skipping lunches and eventually weaning myself off dinner as well, before graduating to bulimia after high school ended. Why? Well, there are two reasons: The first of which is control. It was a very rough time in my life and I was doing every self-destructive thing possibility outside of drug use and promiscuous sex (In fact, I was fairly chaste up until the past few years) and I was already barely eating a stitch, so why not? I remember the first time I purged. I'd eaten spaghetti. And I got in a fight with my mom. Angrily, I locked myself in the bathroom and slid two fingers down the throat. It didn't take much. In fact, I was alarmed at how easy it was.

That started a slippery slope that lead me to, at my worst, weigh just over 80 pounds and not have the energy to get out of bed. At my best, I could function. I could go out with friends, I could muster up energy for late night coffee excursions and I could laugh and I could smile and I could pretend nothing was wrong.

The second reason behind my descent into bulimia was body dysmorphia. Sure, I'm a pretty girl now but if I was in high school and college, I didn't see it. Crippling shyness kept me from associating with people much and the physical Amber that existed in my head was not the physical Amber that existed in tangible reality. Of course, I didn't know that. And no one knew what I thought of myself, what I was doing, so how could any one help?

If you'd have asked me two weeks ago, I would have told you I was recovered but the truth is that I might never recover. Relapse is always inevitable and I always feel split in two - The half of me that doesn't care how much she weighs so long as she's happy, the half that wants to smile and live life with fervor and do all the things that, on a normal day, I do. But the other half is harder. Happiness be damned. She wants to starve.

Reconciling those two halves is harder than one could ever imagine and I hate myself for what I've done, for starting a bratty battle of wills more than ten years ago that has worn the enamel off my teeth, that has thinned my hair, that has irreprably damaged my body so badly that I'll probably never be able to carry a fetus to term. I've done awful things, to others, to myself. I've barraded myself away from everyone I love, I've shut out friends, I've ruined relationships, I've starved myself, I've purged until there was nothing but bile in my body and then I've eaten molded food just to make myself puke more. What I've done has left scars on my knuckles and has given my mouth a bacteria count so high that I have to brush my teeth four to five times days. It's left my self esteem in the proverbial gutter to this day.

I'll never feel as beautiful as I am. I'll never be able to look at a picture of myself and see how gorguous my eyes are, how pretty my smile is, how long my legs are. Instead, I'll only see the fat on my arms, my abhorable thighs, and the gut that in reality is non-existent but in my mind is ever prevelant.

For the longest time, I thought no one could understand. Then, in 2002, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists released Shake the Sheets.

Ted Leo & The Pharmacists - Me & Mia

If I could thank any one person for what they've done for me, it would be Ted Leo. "Me and Mia" might be the one song that has affected my life the most. Each lyric seems tailor fit to my situation - I've done everything Leo describes in the song: "Cigarettes and speed for livin', sleeping pills to feel forgiven."

When Leo sings "If you believe in something beautiful, then get up and be it", I want to. I want to fight with all my will against myself and I want to leave behind the crutches I've held on to for so long. I want to be healthy. I want to be happy. And I know that if I relapse again, there's probably no coming back.

Simply put, I don't want to die.

I'm not saying it's hopeless. In fact, I'm full of hope. One day, I'll be healthy. One day, I'll be able to say I'm recovered and mean it. One day, I'll be able to count on one hand how many times I've purged in the past year.

But until then, I am trying. And that's all I can do.

Would You Ever Be My Fucking Boyfriend?

2010-08-11T01:55:00.007-05:00

Tonight I saw a boy. Alright, so I see a lot of boys, be they friends, strangers, whatever but tonight, I saw one of the few boys that actually, for some strange reason, has a place in my heart. I didn't love him. I didn't know him well enough to love him. But I think, if things had been different, I could have loved him. It certainly seemed that way, a while back, when things were new and different and filled with an optimistic potential that's been severely lacking in my life in recent months.

Sadly, the boy in question wasn't in my life very long. But letters, mix cds, late night phone conversations, a memorable evening spent on my future roommate's loveseat, and sitting on the back porch smoking cigarettes as the sun rose all saw that the slightly younger, very pretty fella was kept in the back of my mind, even after he stopped talking to me.

It's a sore subject - The whole "he stopped talking to me" thing. I don't think I ever talked about it with anyone, other than a brief overview, taking the high road and saying that the distance was just too much, it wasn't feasible, we'd still be friends, that it just didn’t work out. It’s out of character for me to shy away from a subject, to not put poetic flourishes on the sad truth to try to make everything sound like a beautiful narrative straight form a rough draft of a Salinger novel. The truth of the matter was that it hurt then, when he stopped talking to me, and I'd known for months that I was going to see him tonight. I was dreading it. I was expecting it to be awkward. I was expecting him to ignore me. I was expecting him to treat me as if I wasn't worth his time, as if I wasn't there at all. None of what I expected, however, came to fruition. Instead, his kind words, his tousled hair and half smile coupled with the same demeanor that attracted me to him in the first place, was all still there. It was like nothing had changed. He was sweet. Of course he was. That's why I liked him so much.

It was just like nothing had changed.

Only everything had.

We didn't have time to talk for more than ten minutes, despite being in the same loud, dim room for hours and when I got home, I wrote the following words: "I can’t help but feel like I missed a great opportunity so far as he’s concerned. And there’s really nothing I can do about it other than suck it up and move on." Immediately, however, I realized that I was wrong. I can do something other than "suck it up and move on". You see, I don't at all feel like I'm going out on a limb saying that the fella in question is the last - perhaps only - genuinely sweet, remarkable guy I've had in my life. As any of my roommates or friends will be quick to point out, I have a tendency to go for "douches" with "less than honorable intentions". And you may have noticed from recent blogs that I'm not into that anymore. I want to like someone. And currently, I do.

So taking what I learned from the situation with the boy that I saw tonight and the situation with the boy I like right now, I think I've realized that I need to just be straight up and, when the moment's right, tell a certain fella that I would very much like him to be my boyfriend.

The Bird and The Bee - Fucking Boyfriend

The prospect of this conversation terrifies me more than I can put into words.

And the fact that I should probably be at least mostly sober for this conversation makes a strong wave of unshakable queasiness come over me.

I've never asked anyone to be my boyfriend before. The closest I've ever come is asking someone to make out with me and the repercussions of that were more traumatic for many friendships than I can say. Asking someone to be my boyfriend, even just admitting to them that that's where my intentions lie, is nerve wracking. But I know for a fact that the regret I would feel if I chickened out would be a million times worse than the rejection that would bum me out for a few weeks.

Things with that one boy might not have worked out. But I tried. And I'm going to give this new one my all.

...Even though it might make writing about his band REAL awkward if things don't go my way.

Note To Self: Suck Less.

2010-08-10T01:46:00.007-05:00

It seems like there's one constant in my life. Drinking? Scamping? Flightiness? Well, yes... But also mainly no. I was referring to "Fucking up". Yep, it's gonna be one of those blogs so the best thing you could probably do at the moment is exit out of this blog. Hit the back button. Scroll down. Close the tab, for the love of god. I know that I should just hush but let's face it - It's late and no one other than the internet is around to hear me bitch so I might as well get it off my chest.

You see, the fact of the matter is that I genuinely want to be less of a fuck up. I just don't know how. This summer alone, I've endangered friendships, I've endangered careers, and now I'm looking back over my decisions in recent days thinking "Oh fuck, what if I ruin that friendship too? Or THAT one? What have I done?!"

I wish I could say shit to some boys and get things off my chest but I can't, either because I'm too chicken or... Well, mainly that. For instance, boy #1 ought to know that by cutting off all contact with me, he bummed me out enough, not because I wanted to date him but rather because I wanted to be friends with him and there's nothing I hate more than losing friends. So he already traumatized me, right? So he doesn't have to ruin our mutual friendships too. Bachelor #2 would get a huge appology because I never thought the reprecussions through of asking him to make out. If I could alter it, I would, but I can't and I just hope he doesn't dislike me, even though he probably should. The third of these fellas wouldn't get an apology or a barbed comment. Instead, I'd just give him the heads up that if I fucked things up on that front by being a drunk mess in recent weekends, I'll do anything to undo it. I'd also let him know that out of all the guys I made out with this summer, he was top notch. But I don't think I can say that without sounding slutty...

In reality, I'm just coming out a three day bender and it'll clear up in no time and my spirits will return to form. I know this. What I also know, however, is that I don't want to be 30 and still getting sloppy wasted every weekend, matching people who have a much higher tolerance than me drink-for-drink in addition to still being able to say "I've never had a serious boyfriend and I'm emotionally unavailable! I'm a winner!"

So here. I'm making a concerted effort from this point forward to do the following things:

1. Scamp less. Why don't I have a boyfriend? Probably because I don't know how to say the words "I like you" so I just make out instead. Not the most ace first impression, right?

2. Throw caution to the wind and be brave. C'mon, Valentine. You are a spunky, tenacious, and vibrant girl. But none of that counts for shit if you can't straight up tell a boy that you like him. You're not 12 - Putting the Bird and the Bee's "Fucking Boyfriend" on a mix cd isn't gonna cut it this time. Man up and say "I swear I'm not such a drunk mess usually, I'm sorry I passed out in your bed and don't remember if we made out or not, and I think we should date." DO GOOD.

3. Take the "un" out of "emotionally unavailable! Also known as "Operation be less like Kim Pine and even more like Ramona Flowers".

4. Please start remembering more of your evening and don't puke so much. It's unbecoming.

C'mon champ. Stop relating to EVERY Lightning Love song so much and listen to slightly less National. YOU CAN DO IT!

Lightning Love - Wait, Wait

It Seems So Strange That There'd Be A Drum Inside My Chest.

2010-08-01T19:45:00.012-05:00

I think, when I look back at this point in my life, I'm going to be able to do two things. First off, I'm going to be able to say "Goddamn, I am SO GLAD I got over that one guy. Because he was a douche to me." And secondly (and more importantly), I'm going to be able to pinpoint the exact moment everything changed.

The thing is that they're changing already but I'm not counting this whole shift as a win just yet because, as someone very wise once said, "Change is hard". Wait, that's a She and Him song and I'm not quite sure if Zooey "I'm Quirky and Indie!" Deschanel is wise. But whatever, you get the point. Change is hard. Change is scary. I could very easily get half way into "changing" and decide "Fuck this shit, I'm going to get drunk and do something very stupid, like I usually do!" Because stupidity, for me, has a comfortable familiarity. To quote Lightning Love, I can't help having a good time. And for me, a good time usually requires more beer than I should drink and the occasional (or not so occasional) drunken make out sesh with a stranger or two... Or three. Or four. Listen, I'm not proud of my past. But I did have fun. And I didn't contract a single bout of mouth herpes yet!

But something's been looming over me for the better part of 2010 and that something has been the nerve wracking idea of settling down.

I'm not saying I want to get married and start a family. I'm the very definition of commitment-phobic, going so far in the past to cancel dates last minute out of fear they'd go good and I'd be "stuck" with someone that would impede me in the long run. Plus, I don't like babies and the thought of weddings make me so queasy that I can taste bile in the back of my throat. Basically, what I'm saying is that I'm 26 years old and I've never had a serious boyfriend. I've never been in love. I thought I was in love once, years back, and I've been with people who I've thought had potential to make me fall in love with them but nothing's ever come to fruition. I've never been in love.

So what am I going to do with myself? Keep scamping around until I'm 36, single, and having flings with band dudes? Or am I going to... Try?

I've made the conscious decision to try my hand at that "trying" thing. I'm trying - And successfully, thus far! - at doing my best to bury the girl who's life motto was "Who needs love when there's Southern Comfort?" and expose the kinder, gentler Amber that lies beneath. Because she is in me, I swear. Buried under a two-year-long hangover, granted, but she's there nonetheless.

You see, after a few bouts of heartache, I decided it'd be in my best interest to grow a tough skin and become the type of girl who only casually dated, souring relationships by being ruthlessly ambivalent and sarcastically mean before she could get hurt. I've had a lot of "3 weeks or shorter" boyfriends in the past couple years. I've also purposely gotten involved in a lot of long distance relationships with traveling musicians because I knew it was doomed. Living on one of those coasts? And hitting the road constantly? Well, that would never go anywhere. So naturally, it was right up my alley. Some nice company every few months, no strings attached, nobody moves and nobody gets hurt. When was the last time I emotionally invested myself in a boy? My first boyfriend. He cheated on me with a 16 year old. We were both 23 at the time. (I was a late bloomer, okay?!) Sure, it was only 3 years ago but to quote that banged-philosopher Deschanel once more, I guess I'm young but I feel so weary.

(Side note: I put a lot of stock into another boy earlier this year but that was nipped in the proverbial bud by him putting me in the dreaded "friend zone" very promptly into our affair. The funny thing is that I feel completely and utterly platonic with him now and it's almost absurd to me how much I dug him.)

These days, I'm trying something new. I'm trying to be open to possibility. I'm trying to get to know people.

I'm not going to lie, I'm only a few days into this experiment of building a better Amber and this "wearing my heart on my sleeve" thing makes me feel so venerable that I want to punch myself in the face. I can't help but feel that I'm setting myself up for great failure here - Like, life altering failure. If only you knew! If only! - but it seems that I'm finally learning the lesson everyone else my age learned when they were still in college: Whatever happens, it's probably worth the risk.

Agent Ribbons - The Boy With The Wooden Lips

Sidenote: Anyone who knows me knows my weakness for songs that take fairy tales and turn them on their head. If it weren't for that predilection, I probably wouldn't be nearly as fond of Cursive as I am today. The above song made me fall in love with the highly under-appreciated ladies in Agent Ribbons. Well, that and the fact that lead Ribbon Natalie has amazing, perfectly coiffed, never faded hair.

Beautiful, Scenic Detroit.

2010-08-01T19:21:00.007-05:00

What is it about this city that is so ingrained in me?

It doesn't matter how far I go, how long I'm away, there's no city that I fit in with more than Detroit. I've gone everywhere in the Midwest and every place I call home however briefly loses it's luster within weeks. Detroit, however... Well, maybe it's the fact that Detroit doesn't have much of a luster to loose. But to me, this city is beautiful.

I'm getting ready to leave again. I want to leave. I'm prepared this time - Not in the sense of "having money" by any means but rather in the emotional sense. I don't feel like I'm leaving things behind this time (although I'm leaving behind more, in a way, then I was before) but I more feel like I'm going towards better things this time.

Here's a confession for you, readers: I've never been more certain about anything in my life than moving back to Illinois.

There's a million reasons but the point isn't where I'm going; the point is where I'm at. It's strange, being completely content in a certain place and being perfectly happy with the idea of leaving it behind.

It all makes me oddly nostalgic.

Dawes - Take Me Out Of The City

I Was Barn on The 4th of July Part 5: The Walkmen.

2010-07-12T18:59:00.005-05:00

I remember when I first heard The Walkmen. It was on that car commercial, years back. Where a bunch of post-college kids drive through adulthood to opening notes of “We’ve Been Had”. It was just a car commercial but something about the dreamy notes and dramatic vocals buried themselves my head until it became something of an obsession for me, a mission to find out just who that band was and to find out if every song they produced could yield such a magical affect. A quick googling provided the answer and within a few days, I had procured Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone, an album that came to orchestrate my post-high school years with it’s bitter realism juxtaposed against a dreamy, overexposed background.

There’s a reason that so many bands these days sound heavily influenced by Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone and The Walkmen’s subsequent efforts. It’s because they’re damn good.

I’d heard rumors before the 4^th that the “secret headliner” for Barn on the 4^th of July was going to be The Walkmen. The moment I confirmed it with Mr. Daytrotter himself, Sean Moeller, the excitement I already felt in anticipation for the Barnstormer reached a fever pitch, an anxious need to get to Iowa and get there as soon as I could, all the while listening only to Bows + Arrows, You + Me, and, of course, Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone.

The Walkmen - We've Been Had

The Walkmen - The Rat

My adoration for The Walkmen goes far back, obviously, and is rooted deep in my heart, with front man Hamilton Leithauser being one of my first “indie rock crushes” back in the day. Something about Leithauser’s lyrics bore their way into me, relating to a part of myself that many musicians try to reach but few actually succeed in getting to. Much as there is a reason that so many “dream pop” bands sound like The Walkmen, there’s also a reason why “The Rat”, The Walkmen’s 2004 single off Bows + Arrows, is so revered. With it’s sloppy-sexy refrain of “When I used to go out, I would know everyone that I saw; Now I go out alone, if I go out at all”, Leithauser taps into the sadness of being a disillusioned twenty-something, much like The National do, but instead of having a baritone anchor like that of Matt Berninger, Leithauser’s frantic yelps as he asks “Can’t you see me, I’m poundin’ on your door?” perfectly encapsulate the manic-post college depression so many kids go through these days when they begin to realize drinking every night doesn’t always factor into adult life.

Taking the above anecdote about my introduction to The Walkmen into account, it’s no surprise that “We’ve Been Had” hit like a sucker punch when the band launched into it after their revelatory performance of “In The New Year”. As Leithauser shouted inimitably into the microphone with passion that far exceeded his seductively lackadaisical stage presence, it was almost like falling in love with The Walkmen all over again only I’d never fallen out of love with them, I’d just never been so lucky as to see them so intimately before. When “We’ve Been Had” faded into the self-deprecating and anthemic jolt of “The Rat”, the crowd was overcome with a palpable euphoria. Girls were dancing, men were singing, beers were being spilt with haphazard elation. Suddenly, the only thing that mattered was that we were all there, in a barn, in Maquoketa, Iowa, and The Walkmen were sharing the moment with us.

Seeing one of my favorite bands of the past five years share the stage with one of my favorite bands of the past ten years was easily the best moment of my professional life. It’s fun going to concerts all the time but after a while, it burns you out, especially being in a city like Chicago where something’s always going on. The whole beauty of the experience begins to lose a bit of it’s wonder. Nights like the 4^th of July, however, remind me what passion is and even now, more than a week later, I can still feel the excitement of stumbling through cornfields, making repeated beer runs, dancing with wonderful women, and flirting with wonderful men, all set to the backdrop of some of the best bands I’ve ever seen.

Barn on The 4th of July Part 4: Dawes

2010-07-12T18:01:00.005-05:00

2009 saw some stellar releases from artists that I’d loved from anywhere from two years of my life to over ten but when it came time to order my top albums of the year, a band of newcomers took the top spot with a stellar debut that was evocative of something much grander than the member’s youth should be able to produce. Naturally, I’m talking about the darlings of Daytrotter, Dawes and their LP North Hills.

Everything about Dawes is not what it seems. Taylor and Griffin Goldsmith write songs that quote philosophers while preaching life lessons that make them seem nothing if not wise far beyond their almost painfully young years. They play like seasoned veterans with Wylie Gelber and Alex Casnoff providing more to the music than you would ever guess from hearing the record.

To say that seeing Dawes live makes their album seem fairly bland is quite possibly the biggest compliment that could be given to the quartet. North Hills has quickly risen to the ranks of one of my most played albums of the past five years, not just my favorite record of 2009, but despite its magnanimity, Dawes brings forth an energy live that I’ve yet to see any band duplicate. Yes, I’ve seen Dawes before and I’ll see Dawes again but despite that fact, the moment it was announced that they boys would be playing Barn on the 4^th of July, it was cemented that I was going. Seeing one of my favorite musical discoveries of my adult life play in a barn is something not be missed and Dawes, per usual, did not disappoint. It was truly Dawes’s crowd in Makoqueta, with everyone from 14 year old boys to 20-something hipsters to 60 year old men singing along to Taylor’s every word and taking them all to heart whilst doing so. When Taylor curses the western skyline, everyone in Maquoketa does too and when Griffin talks about how far he’s come, everyone in Maquoketa echoes in sentiments with bellowing devotion.

Dawes - How Far We've Come (Live at Daytrotter)

Peppering the set with new material off what is almost certain to become one of the best albums of 2011, Taylor, Griffin, Alex, and Wylie tore through the 4^th of July with their usual virile passion for the songs they’ve penned, a type of fervor for their art that is so rarely exhibited by musicians after having played the same songs almost every night for well over a year. It didn’t matter to them, however, that the songs were familiar. If anything, it was bolstering and welcomed. “Western Skyline” found new power with a chorus of people who knew each lyric, who all understand just how special Dawes is and who all know that one day soon, these California natives are going to hit it big, real big, and will be playing to the likes of sold out crowds at Lincoln Hall, so they treasure the time they get with Dawes because they all know, it’s just a matter of time before the rest of the world understands the sublimity of Dawes.

It was said by more than one person talking about their Barnstorming experience that the powerful “When My Time Comes”, one of North Hills strongest and most immediately accessible tracks, was the best song of the entire night – And that was said after The Walkmen blew everyone away. While Dawes did have my favorite set of the night, I must give The Walkmen the accolade of best song but even if no secret headliner existed and Dawes had closed out the night, I still would be saying I had the best weekend of my life. Great friends, great music, and great beer in a cornfield in Iowa. If life can get more special than that, I’ll gladly live in ignorance of whatever comes next because what Daytrotter has given us with the Barnstormer experience is more than enough to let me live the rest of my life out contented.

Dawes Daytrotter Session: May 6th, 2009

Dawes Daytrotter Session: July 8th, 2010

I'm Too Broke To Keep Dying This Way.

2010-07-11T01:11:00.006-05:00

Well, I'm five days without a cigarette. I never really thought of myself as a hardcore smoker up until recently. I've been gingerly quitting for about a month now if for no reason than I am poor and cigarettes cost the same as one meal which can, on occasion, last an Amber three meals. If it comes down to a pack of Marlbros versus an order of Szechuan tofu... Well, the smarter gal would chose the tofu. The nicotine fiend that I've discovered residing within, however, well, her answer is different.

So I decided to quit smoking a few weeks back although I soon discovered that when I was drinking, I was bumming cigs left and right, so while "Sober Amber" was doing her darndest to live nicotine free, "Drunk Amber" was doing her best to thwart "Sober Amber"'s plans... Per usual. Remember that vow of celibacy? That lasted about 4 days after I made it and the guy I fucked up my year long "social experiment" with ended up promptly relegating me to the "friend zone"! Worth it? Well, uh, yeah, actually, it was but that's beside the point.

After realizing my drunk self's smoking habits, I decided to throw myself in, haphazardly and partially unwilling, to the cause of "no more smoking". If I were to give it a catchy campaign name, it'd probably be "Amber's Smokin' Hot! But Not Smokin' Cigs! 2010".

Now I'm five days without a cig, having smoked a few (or a few packs, probably) when I was in Iowa and Illinois because, to quote that Jeff Tweedy scamp, when you're back in your old neighborhood, the cigarettes taste so good. And also because there was a keg of Spotted Cow. And I was in a barn seeing favorite band of 2009 Dawes and favorite band of my 17 to 20 year old self The Walkmen! How cool is that shit?! Good times.

These days, however, nothing's good. My head? That constantly hurts. My back? Achey. Legs? Yeah, them too. My hands are shaky, my forehead's clammy and sweaty. I can't concentrate and I can't sleep. I have no energy. I'm constantly crabby. All I want to do is drink beer and sit outside and - You guessed it! Smoke cigarettes! But two of those three things I've been abstaining from as of late and sadly, sitting outside hasn't been one of them. But at least I have this to orchestrate the whole ordeal:

Andrew Jackson Jihad - Still Smokin'

Art via Natalie Dee this time 'round.

What A Hot Half Life I Half-Live... And Now You Get To Hear All About It!

2010-07-11T00:24:00.005-05:00

Man, blogging is hard work. I believe it was previously mentioned that Amber Valentine has gone from Hot Half Showrunner to Editor in Chief of Radio Free Chicago. Does the fact that I no longer live in Chicago make me a phony? Probably. But regardless, since my takeover, RFC hasn't been "off air" for a day. Heck, the other day, we had three posts. Three! What kind of fuckery is that? Awesome fuckery. It's been strange, however, as I went from being able to write whatever the hell I want here to having to get back in the swing of coordinating and delegating.

But the point of this isn't how RFC has affected my day to day "wake up at noon and sit at the computer" existence. It's how this shift in behavior is going to affect The Hot Half Life, something I've given alot of thought to in recent days, since my return from Iowa (more on that later, promise).

The conclusion is that this blog will (obviously) be still geared on music and how it affects my life but will also begin to feature more personal jackassery from yours truly. Questions such as "Why do I live a 'hot half life'?", "Why am I constantly referring to myself as an idiot?", and "Why exactly doesn't a cutie gal like me have a boyfriend?" will all be answered. Finally! Oh, wait, am I the only one excited for this...? Well, the lack of readers isn't going to stop me now. It never has in the past!

So here's to a shiny, new, lamer Hot Half Life. What's to come? Anecdotes! Songs! Pictures! Songs! Moping! Songs! Idiocy! Songs! Pictures! And songs! And, you know, for actual "well written" things that don't "suck", there's always Radio Free Chicago.

Negatives and Positives: Mix Two in a Series of Two... Well... Kind Of.

2010-06-27T19:33:00.000-05:00

When I bum out, I bum out real hard. The irony of this is that right now, my life is perhaps the best it's ever been. A lot of negativity that I've been carrying around for a long time is gone and I've got a swell new job that you may or may not be aware of (Editor in Chief of Radio Free Chicago, represent!) and I've been integrated into a wonderful and vibrant local scene here in Detroit that has done nothing if not inspire me to write about music with the wide of ferocity of a much younger Amber, only with more experience on my side this time.

However, you don't have to know me long to realize that I set extremely high standards for myself. In my professional life, I'm tenacious enough to reach my goals and somehow know enough about how to deal with people to get the job done. In my personal life, however... Well, I'll leave you with the following anecdote: I was at a picnic on the water with my friend. He and I canoed back with a gentlemen from out of town. When said out-of-towner got back ashore, he asked another picnicker if "that girl ever talks about anything other than herself". (For the record, I'm pretty sure the only things I said about myself were said not to this guy but during conversation with my friend.) I've had a consistent lack of social skills, an overwhelming "weirdness" and have been a polarizing person since I was a young thing so this stranger's reaction doesn't entirely shock me and to be honest, it's more funny to me than anything, and it has nothing to do with any bumming going on. It's just an anecdote. The bumming, for the record, has to do with boys and family and all the stupid ridiculous shit that I feel the incredible need to have but cannot succeed at to save my life.

So I made that mix for Brent a few days back. As a companion, to lift everyone's spirits, I had decided to make a "Positive" mix to go along with the negative. However, I just wasn't feeling it. I tried, I did, but maybe the fact of the matter is that the bulk of my iTunes is music to bum out to or perhaps I just couldn't get in the mood to drum up enough positivity for a mix. So, instead, I made another bummer of a mix and I think I did the impossible: I made an even sadder mix than sad mix numero uno, a mix intended to be a sad mix to end all sad mixes. So draw the blinds, think about your most painful failed relationship, and get ready to shed some tears. This is one for the ages, with all the usual Hot Half suspects.

Editor's note: In lieu of the typical track listing I usually do, you get nothing. I would apologize but I'm not sorry.

I Guess I'm Young But I Feel So Weary

Reason To Not Drink Every Night For God-Knows-How-Long? You Emerge Feeling Like This.

01 Found - Bad Veins

02 Girls Are Always Wrong - Lightning Love

03 Collect Call - Metric

04 Anyone's Ghost - The National

05 Black Hole - She & Him

06 I'm a Broken Heart - The Bird and The Bee

07 Skinny Love - Bon Iver

08 House Fire - Someone Still Loves You, Boris Yeltsin

09 The Lottery - Emily Haines and the Soft Skeleton

10 Twilight - Elliott Smith

11 A Stone - Okkervil River

12 Maps - Arcade Fire

13 The Drinks We Drank Last Night - Azure Ray

14 Everything Will Be Alright - The Killers

Editor's Note: Yes, "Indier Than Thou" Amber included The Killers on a mix. Hot Fuss was a great album, she stands by that, and if you don't agree, you can shove it. And the "cover art" is snagged from Kurt Halsey again but considering how many of you out there have tattoos of his art, you probably knew that already.

Negatives and Positives: Mix One in a Series of Two.

2010-06-23T18:24:00.004-05:00

So my friend Brent's been going through a rough time recently. It sucks because he's a good guy and he deserves the best. But that's how it goes, isn't it? Bad events, in my opinion, build character and that's why good people turn out so damn good. It's all uphill for Brent, whether he realizes it or not and for that matter, I've been going through a hard time as well - I'm trying my dardest to keep my personal turmoil off the internet but as a heart-on-her-sleeve music blogger, it's difficult at times, especially when my "personal voice" is my strongest attribute. So to sum up the going on's in my life in three short phrases, I'll just say that 1. I thought something was going well and it wasn't. I don't fully comprehend why but it could be worse.; 2. I, for all intents and purposes, have lost my mother. Words cannot describe it but "Red" by Okkervil River has been my go-to "Sob into a pillow late at night" song for lyrics like "I know I don't deserve supervised sight of her but each day becomes a blur without my daughter", and while I know my own mother doesn't think that about me, Will Sheff's lyrics have, for many years, and continue to make me hope that she does.; And 3. My life's been bipolar lately, and the roller coaster highs and lows have left me feeling dizzy and lonely. Professionally, I'm better than I've ever been. Personally, I've been in tears for one reason or another each and every day for the last week-ish, and that's saying something as I do not cry easily.

So when Brent requested a heartbreakingly sad mix, I was not only happy to oblige but I found the experience more cathartic than playing dress up in dresses that make me look like the offspring of Zooey Deschanel and Audrey Tautou's Amelie.

Don't be fooled by the occasionally jaunty tune (I'm looking at you, M. Ward!) on this mix. Every song here was deliberately chosen for it's lyrical content and instead of my usual Amber liner notes, explaining why each song is special, I'm instead including a single lyric summing up the song and, ergo, the reasoning behind it, although I do have to say that if there's one standout artist on the disc, it's Ann Arbor, Michigan's Gun Lake, who deserve attention and respect because they're criminally ignored by, well, seemingly everyone but me. But don't worry, I'll fawn over them many, many times via many, many outlets in the future, so much so that I'm sure you'll only listen to Gun Lake in the relatively near future in an attempt to shut me up. Then, of course, you'll fall in love and wonder why you've been wasting your time on trendy-indie folk-lite when bands like Gun Lake exist. But anyhow...

Numb My Heart

When only the saddest songs will do.

01 Novocain - Jeremy Messersmith: I could have been someone but now my name is just a ghost, my reputation's just a joke, and I can't cry.

02 In the Sun - She and Him: I'll just keep it to myself.

03 It Ends With A Fall - Okkervil River: All that kiss her just seem like puny suitors I can see through. None will do, no, not for you - It might as well be just us two.

04 Flume - Bon Iver: Only love is all maroon, gluey feathers on the flume.

05 New Resolution - Azure Ray: Move on, move on, there's nothing changing.

06 June - Gun Lake: Now you're only in my mind: An unfinished film I won't rewind.

07 All Cleaned Out - Elliott Smith: You're not really as composed as you appear.

08 It's Only Your Life - Kevin Devine: There's a world awake outside; but you can't see past the length of your nose, your biggest problems you're sure are your own.

09 Radio Campaign - M. Ward: Since the day that you've been gone, I cannot keep from cryin' so come back my little peace of mind.

10 Upward Over The Mountain - Iron and Wine: May the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten.

11 Twilight Galaxy - Metric: If you're not alright, come on and tell me, I'll take you someplace that you are.

12 Animals - Sara Lov featuring Sea Wolf: I never, never learned to swim until you came around and pushed me in.

13 This Side of the Blue - Joanna Newsom:I am progressing abominably; and I do not know my own way to the sea but the saltiest sea knows it's own way to me.

14 Sweet Marie - Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore: It ain't right but what's done is done.

15 Red - Okkervil River: I know it's easy to have me but I have seen some things that I cannot even tell to my family pictures and I'm fully of fictions and fucking addictions and I miss my mother.

16 True Love Will Find You In the End - Daniel Johnston: Sorry, I just couldn't help ending the mix on a positive note. What can I say? I'm an optimist. While Brent hasn't elaborated on why he wants a mix so sad that it makes him want to die, I suspect it has something to do with a lady. Fact of the matter is that I know this advice doesn't help because it's the same advice I receive ad nausea and never heed but you're a wonderful, smart, witty, special, passionate guy, Brent. And it might take a while but that will prevail. I have hope for you. Even if you have to end up going to Iowa and marrying Jeff, as Daniel Johnston says, true love will find you in the end.

Don't give up hope.

You're a wonderful man.

Art, per usual, courtesy of Kurt Halsey.

A Mix. From Me To You.

2010-06-22T06:19:00.000-05:00

Sunday, my family and I had a cook out at my grandma's house. Before I launch into the story at hand, you have to understand something about my family: They're not my biological family. They're my stepfamily. So I was robbed of growing up with their awesomeness, which is a shame because the other thing you need to understand about my family is that they bare a dangerous resemblance to the Bluths of Arrested Development fame. My grandma? Imagine Lucille sans liquor. My uncle? Well, he's kinda like Buster. I suppose that would cast my dad as Michael and my nephew is one-hundred-percent George Michael, in ways I could not say on the internet for fear of him or one of our respective relatives reading it and embarrassing the poor adolescent horribly. But, anyhow, I'm at this "get together" and somehow, the subject of flirting comes up. It ends up that flirting is something I cannot do and I had both my eleven year old nephew and my sister attempting to give me tips on how to, well, suck less.

Trying to make myself seem, you know, slightly less than completely socially retarded, I attempted to defend myself by saying "Well, I made a mix cd for the guy I like the other day!"

My sister's response? "What are you, twelve?"

Well, actually, I sort of am, because I think anyone past the point of puberty would have actually given the mix cd to said boy. Instead, I posted it on the internet in hopes he would hear would hear it like the socially awkward teenager I still am, deep down inside.

You see, my problem with "flirting" as an "adult" (I put these in quotations because I suck at the first one and refuse to believe I am considered the second one as music journalism leads to latent alcoholism and stunted emotional growth) is the following: I've been told I must be "demure". I, however, like when I talk, especially about music. If a guy bores me, if he can't hold a conversation with me that involves shooting names of obscure yet prolific musicians back and forth, any interest I may have had will wither fairly promptly. I've also been told to flatter in ways that just don't seem genuine. Why would I say I miss someone if I don't? It seems silly. And mix cds? Well, apparently they're best left middle school way. I, however, refuse, mainly because I'm one of those painfully quirky indie girls who uses mix cds to express her emotions because she's too distant and frightened of rejection to put it into words. So the latest bout of "I can't say it, so I'll let these more prolific people sing it" is as follows. Did it work? Well... It was well received as a mix. And let's leave it at that, shall we?

I Realize Why I Cannot Fly: Folk Music for Endless Summer.

01 At Home (Time Unknown): The Elected - You might remember this song from an Orbit gum commercial. It's one of the more charming things I've ever heard, albeit in a tongue in cheek way, and worth 40 seconds of your time. Fun fact? The Elected is Blake Sennet's other band when he's not busy with that Rilo Kiley nonsense. Additionally, I love to bookend mixes with two short tracks just to cap things off. This track gets a whole lotta play on mixes at my casa and I challenge you to find cuter lyrics than the ones that span the forty seconds of this tune.

02 I'm Always In Love: Wilco - Old Wilco always reminds me of summer. Additionally, those of you familiar with Koji will know this song.

03 Franklin Avenue (Acoustic at Daytrotter): Jeremy Messersmith - The only thing better than this song (which might or might not have alot of structural elements in common with Elliott Smith's "Bottle Up and Explode", which a pal and I deduced, albeit in a good way) is this song done live at the Horseshack.

04 Momentary Drowning: Young Coyotes - The song of the summer in '08, complete with handclaps, woahs, and a dreamy overtone that was produced before dreamy overtones were all the rage. Denver's Young Coyotes deserve a hundred times more recognition than they get.

05 Mamma Mia: Miniature Tigers - No Amber Valentine mix cd is complete without a novelty cover. Why do I like to procure a one way ticket to Smashed City and sing this song at karaoke? Because of this. THANKS FOR THE HUMILIATION, CHARLIE.

06 When My Time Comes: Dawes - It's only a matter of time before these young'uns hit it big, and I'm talking BIG. Catch the Dawes wave now. Plus, they reference Nietzsche, whether purposefully or not. FUCK YES.

07 Westfall: Okkervil River - My favorite band of the past ten years. This song's content gave my literal chills the first time I heard it.

08 Cake and Eat It Too: David Bazan - Bazan is the Jesus of indie rock. The only man to affect me more with their lyrics in time of need is Elliott Smith. Additionally, Bazan's Daytrotter session changed my life, no joke.

09 Sad, Sad Song: M. Ward - This man needs no introduction. (Almost) Everything he touches turns to folk rock gold.

10 Darkest Heart: Andrew Jackson Jihad - Another band that deserves more attention than they garner. True story: The best conversation I've ever had about morality took place with these guys outside Beat Kitchen, where A.J.J. just did an encore last night, an event I sadly didn't know about until mere hours before it happened.

11 Sun Sun Sun: The Elected - Loathe though I am to repeat a band, this song is magic. Sometimes, I feel as if this song sums up my life in a very real way: "I've made up for my mistakes... And I'm tired of being fucking patient but I wait, I wait." Thank you, Blake Sennet, for this song.

12 Another Radio Song: Okkervil River - Did I say I was loathe to repeat a band? Well, uh, the Okkervil River rule applies here. Will Sheff can do what he wants and he wants to be on this mix twice. There are lines in this song that affect me alot. It was down, for the second Okkervil track, between this and "Red". I went with this on account of catchiness however "Red" is and has been for a long time the veritable story of my life in song form through the perspective of someone else: "I took a dancer home, she felt so alone... She said 'I know it's easy to have me but I'm full of fictions and fucking addictions and I miss my mother.'" The first time I heard that, I felt as if I'd been sucker punched. But anyhow, this other song's cool too, you know, so yeah.

13 A Girl, A Boy, and A Graveyard (Live): Jeremy Messersmith - Yeah, I'm repeating artists all over the place. Whatever. This song is my current obsession, as I'm sure many of you noted. Why? Well, because if I had to sum my "love life" up in one song, it would be this - I'm no princess waiting for my happily ever after. Instead, I do feel as if I'm some sort of Frankenstein, waiting for a jolt to bring me back to life. Thanks, Mister Messersmith. You done good on this one.

14 Best For The Best - Josh Ritter: Ritter's a folk genius and will one day be revered for such. This track, off of his early and under appreciated The Animal Years, is nothing short of a gem.

15 Mr. November - The National: Sure, it's not quite folk but this is one of my favorite songs of all time. I won't fuck us over, scout's honor.

16 Drive Me To The Center - The Seedy Seeds: Another band more people need a big FYI about. Appalachian electro folk? It works, I swear.

17 Happiness (Acoustic) - Elliott Smith: If you've seen my arm, you understand. I've got lyrics to this song on my for the rest of my life and I don't regret it a stitch. All my tattoos are meant to be positive in one way or another and the way this song mirrors my life is slightly eerie. Elliott's mostly remembered for his morose ballads but the positivity of this song endures, past Smith's untimely death, and still resonates. It's another refrain like that "Mr. November" chorus I quoted, one that stirs something inside of me and makes me realize that things will be okay if I persevere: What I used to be will pass away and then you'll see that all I want now is happiness for you & me.

18 Labelship Down - Josh Ritter: The final bookend, a song fragment that's one of the catchiest things this side of Jon Brion.

Art via my "go to" mix cover artist, Royal Oak, Michigan's favorite son, Kurt Halsey.

Carnivals and Graveyards: Dissecting Songs.

2010-06-19T08:14:00.005-05:00

Editor's Note: Originally, this started as a Facebook status update. It obviously got too long for that so I made it into a note but after it was written, I liked it too much to relegate it to "note-ville", and loathe though I am to post twice about the same song in a row, I liked this piece of writing and genuinely am curious about other's interpretations of the lyrics.

Some of you fine folks that may or may not reading this might have noticed that I can be single minded at times. And by "at times", I mean "all the time". The plus side of this is the fact that I've excelled at my career, having gotten very far in a very short period of time. The downside of this is that I easily get wrapped up in things and occasionally, other things go by the wayside. This has, since youth, been referred to as "spaciness" or "flightiness". Additionally, I can be very literate, which I think is a strange quality for an abstract thinking person to have.

Lots of musicians I've had the chance to interview have told me they want people to interpret their songs, that it doesn't matter why a song was originally written or what it was originally written about, but rather how a person relates it to their own life or situation.

A great example of this is "Carnival" by Kevin Devine. I had put SO much thought into the theory that that song was some great allegory for the "music business". I asked him about it when I interviewed him for the second time and it ends up I couldn't have been more wrong.

Analyzing things, I think, is in my nature. It's probably why, out of everything I've done, I've excelled the most at interviewing.

There's a song I've been obsessing over recently, a sad folk song by Jeremy Messersmith that I featured in the last post called "A Girl, A Boy, And A Graveyard". The song is a veritable treasure trove of things I love - Intricate guitar, lyrics so sad that they border on macabre romanticism, you know, the usual. After the lyrical set up, introducing the "boy" and the "girl", Lucy, in addition to that titular graveyard, Messersmith quotes Lucy as saying "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. My body's cold, my guts are twisted steel."

Now what I'm wondering is: Do the quotations stop here? Is the following stanza from her, or Messermith's, perspective? The first chorus is: "I feel like I'm some sort of Frankenstein, waiting for a jolt to bring me back to life." Now, it could easily relate to either character. From Lucy's perspective, she's continuing her point from the previous line about feeling indescribably numb and lonesome. However, from Messersmith's, the song takes on the idea of Lucy's uncertainty "leading the boy on", with him holding on hope for a relationship that will probably never come to fruition, thus making him less of a bystander in the song's narration and more involved.

I am of the mind that the girl, Lucy, is the Frankenstein, and, to be honest, that's part of the reason the song appealed to me so much in the beginning. Not many writers would compare their heroine to something as conventionally "grotesque" as Frankenstein's monster. To be honest, however, Frankenstein has always been one of my favorite love stories. What can I say, I relate to the misunderstood underdog. Or, you know, baby killing, neck-bolt-ridden monster, in this case. (Other good Frankenstein songs are by Timber Timbre and Aimee Mann and to be honest, this realization is probably going to result in a "Monster Mash" mix in the near future.)

So that's my opinion on the song. My friend Heidi, however, is of the opposite mind, an idea I never entertained until last night when she brought it up.

So what's your thoughts? (And don't be a dick and tell me to look in the liner notes. I did that already. There are no quotations anywhere.)

Another Editor's Note: Messersmith has more lovely songs other than this one, this is just the one I constantly choose to focus on. Check out the two following tracks and see for yourself.

Artwork, per usual, by the man who holds the coveted position of "Hot Half Favorite Artist", William Schaff, of Okkervil River cover art fame.

ACCORDING TO THE MAN HIMSELF, Jeremy Messermith, the intent was for Lucy to be "speaking" both choruses. I'm happy with this because, as I believe I previously stated, I relate more to the feeling of being a Frankenstein than a princess, a girl pieced together from bits of others thoughts and theories and ideas, waiting for someone to think "Hey, this girl's something." So thanks, Messersmith. I'm happy to know I'm not alone, even if your Lucy is mostly fiction.

Detroit Rock City: Kickstand Band, Lightning Love, and The Daredevil Christopher Wright @ PJ's Lager House.

2010-06-16T16:47:00.000-05:00

Editor's note: My two go-to photogs left this concert god-awful early so I'm using pictures of my friend Heidi's cats, Toby and Mittens instead of pictures of the bands.

So one thing that's been missing in my life since I've been in Detroit (Or as us "gangsters" call it, "The D") is a good bar. And when I say "good bar", what I mean is "hipster bar", basically, the Detroit equivalent of Cincinnati's Mayday. You know, a place where cool kids go to do cool things, with little to no pretentious bullshit and little to no airs being put on; so I was glad that I had trekked out to PJ's Lager House if only for the reason that I had found just that. I mean, I was also dang glad that I trekked out to PJ's because June 9th held a pretty special occasion: Quite possibly the most solid bill I ever had the chance to see was hitting my city. And you can believe me when I say that because I have seen ALOT of bills in my day but the fact that the always fantastic, surprisingly raucous The Daredevil Christopher Wright was sandwiched in between newcomers Kickstand Band and perennial favorites Lightning Love marked the first time that I knew going in that I would not be disappointed for a second.

That being said, I do wish that I could say some positive things about Kickstand Band but I found myself outside during the majority of their set. From what I heard, it was great, and when I finally did trek inside to the tune of co-vocalist Gordon Smith doing Rachel Leigh Cooke proud with a cover of Josie and The Pussycats' "Pretend To Be Nice", a Hot Half guilty pleasure for years, I was definitely pleased and a bit bummed that my need for nicotine had kept my on the back porch of PJ's, a bit too far from the fuzzy, sun soaked sound of Kickstand Band. The fact that their a fairly new outfit, however, bodes well for me catching the trio again in the near future around my proverbial hood.

The Daredevil Christopher Wright - The East Coast

The Daredevil Christopher Wright is the kind of band that, since my last time seeing them last autumn, I have been waiting eagerly to see again. I know a lot of people like to see bands multiple times but when you go to a lot of concerts and the whole experience of live music loses a bit of it's charm, bands you go for repeat performances get to be few and far between, unless we're talking about absolute favorite bands of ever because let's face it, I'd follow Okkervil River across the country if I weren't afraid I'd creep out lead singer Will Sheff with my constant staring at him, but anyhow, fact of the matter is that The Daredevil always puts on a superb show with the Wisconsin natives churning out a sound that's surprisingly loud and energetic for them being a Midwestern folk trio. Naturally, however, I was most pleased with the most subdued number in their set, a song written about the lasting affect of Elliott Smith's music on singer Jon Sunde, "War Stories", a song that I hadn't heard the band play before but had taken an immediate shine to upon first hearing In Defense of a Broken Back, the trio's debut LP, mainly because Sunde and I have an adoration for the late Smith in common, but also because the lilting guitar and heartfelt lyrics signify the tangible emotion of a musician losing their hero, and everyone loves a sad song. Well... This gal does anyhow.

The Daredevil Christopher Wright - War Stories

I feel as if I've seen the night's headliners Lightning Love is all walks of my life, and in varying degrees of sobriety as well. From an under-attended gig at the Majestic with Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin to a packed-to-the-gills New Year's eve show in Cincinnati, Lightning Love is a band I've come to appreciate for the following reasons, some of which I have probably stated before: One: Lyricist Leah Diehl sings songs about my life. That time I accidentally cheated on that one boyfriend I had meant to dump before? I've got "Good Time" to remind me of that. The time (or times) I lost a friend because I said something stupid while drunk and couldn't remember for the life of me in the a.m. why people were mad at me? Oh, hey, "Friends". And of course there's "Everyone I Know" to help me reminisce about, well, everyone I know. Two: The band gets better each time I see them, no lie, and getting to watch them in a crowd of thirty or so devoted local fans feels special because if there's any justice in awesome art, Lightning Love will be playing a lot bigger shows before long. They're just one ringing endorsement form Stereogum away from an opening slot with Miniature Tigers. (Yes, I'm totally only saying this because I really want someone important to take note of the fact that these bands would be a match made in indie pop heaven.) Three: I like to dance. And I don't get to dance nearly as often as I would like. However, put me in a Lightning Love show and it's game over. Did I dance until my feet bled this time? Yep! Thanks to that blister from a late night walk to the lake the evening before that popped! And I'm proud of that because no band inspires me to dance by myself like Lightning Love does. Ironically, the type of lookers that I usually find at Lightning Love shows usually inspire nothing but the utmost shyness in me but something about Diehl's self-deprecating and honest lyrics combine with the "hooks abound!" music melts any self-consciousness I might have.

Lightning Love - Good Time

I Love Jeremy Messersmith and You Should Too.

2010-06-15T19:49:00.003-05:00

There's a million things I should be writing. CD reviews are starting to pile up. I've got three concert reviews languishing somewhere in "I'm Just Not Feeling It"-ville and being back in Michigan and trying to start a new career(-ish) has combined with socializing with new people to create some sort of "endless summer" that eats up more than a little of my time.

There's something to be said for all of it, for getting to know new people, for spending your days in the pool, and for languishing while reflecting upon your life with folk music, the last of which is my favorite hobby. So when I stumble upon a new musician who is absolutely perfect for languishing while reflecting upon my life with folk music, nothing thrills me more in the world and with Jeremy Messersmith, I've got just that.

I had the pleasure of seeing Messersmith with the amazing Brooklyn duo Kaiser Cartel last night in Ann Arbor and while I knew Messersmith's work beforehand, I wasn't nearly as familiar with it as I'm going to be in the future because, simply put... Goddamn. The man is the perfect combination of innovation, storytelling, and charming catchiness. In fact, I used my noggin to think up the absolute best comparison of not one, not two, but three artists I love that he has vague similarities to but, hey, I'm saving that for my review of his latest cd, The Reluctant Graveyard, although I might reuse the comparison in my review of the Kasier Cartel/Messersmith concert that I swear I will be writing in a few days.

But until then, I appear to be doing the classic Amber Valentine thing of attaching myself to one particularly strong song and being unable to listen to anything else.

"A Girl, A Boy, A Graveyard" lyrically reflects more of me than any song I've heard in quite some time. Sure, there have been tracks like Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore's "Something, Somewhere, Sometime" or The National's "Anyone's Ghost" that have struck quite a chord with me in recent months but I've been lacking "that song", the type of song that could have been pieced together directly from quotes I've said, that tells the story of me awkwardly finding myself falling a bit for someone who may or may not ever be more than a friend, and I could delve into details, dissecting verses and lines, but instead I'm going to give you the following: A song, a video, and a quote. Because I think that speaks enough.

Jeremy Messersmith - A Girl, A Boy, and A Graveyard

"I feel like I'm some kind of Frankenstein

Waiting for a shock to bring me back to life

But I don't want to spend my time

Waiting for lightning to strike"

"I'm like a princess in a castle high

Waiting for a kiss to bring me back to life

But I don't want to spend my time

Waiting for just another guy"

A to Z Week: The Elected Through Iron and Wine

2010-06-13T15:22:00.001-05:00

The Elected - Sun Sun Sun

On a whole, I feel like The Elected, side project of Rilo Kiley's Blake Sennet, has fallen a little bit short. Regardless, the album bore some true gems and even has E-omitee Stacy Dupree of Eisley backing Sennet on the charming "I'll Be Your Man". For me, however, The Elected holds a place in my heart for Orbit Gum commercial alum "At Home: Time Unknown" (A track which has started many a cute mix CD in past years) and this song, "Sun Sun Sun", a folk tune with brutal honesty and heartbreaking overtones that is right up my alley. What can I say? I like my music like I like my men: Sort of sad, with an acoustic guitar, and a few crushed dreams.

Feist - Mushaboom

From bummertown to cutesville, Broken Social Scene's Leslie Feist encapsulates the cuteness of having a megacrush in this tune, which apparently was on the soundtrack to (500) Days of Summer. I didn't see (500) Days of Summer so I don't know that for a fact. It's just what I hear on the street. If I were to make a mix of songs to say "I Like You But I Can't Say That Myself Because I'm Too Worried You'll Reject Me", "Mushaboom" would be featured. What am I saying? I have made that mix and "Mushaboom" was featured.

Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal

Best act from last year's Lollapalooza, hands down. Additionally, a Fox or two used to be in David Bazan's Pedro The Lion, along with Death Cab for Cutie's Ben Gibbard, who's married to the She of She and Him. How's that for indie rock connect the dots?

Gayngs - The Gaudy Side of Town

Recognize this voice? It's Bon Iver's Justin Vernon! In my opinion, his voice, while gorgeous backed by nothing but his acoustic guitar, is better suited for the borderline-raunchy Gayngs sound which is nothing if not music to make out to. I'd say more, but Gayngs needs more than a paragraph. Naturally, that means an ode to Gayngs is coming soon!

The Good Life - I Am An Island

I absolutely love when I can sneak a song lyric into every day conversation. The Hold Steady is easy and every time a drink is in my hand, it's all but guaranteed that a "Constructive Summer" quote will be spoken. The White Stripes are another popular one and the scathing "You don't know what love is, you just do as you're told." is probably my favorite insult ever. This Good Life track is another song that's permeated into conversation more than a few times with Cursive frontman and The Good Life singer Tim Kasher's naturally self-deprecating wit and so-overwrought-it-works "I'm a dull, jaded, selfish, abusive, dysfunctional fuck up." being the reply to the "What's wrong?" question on more than one occasion. For the record, I'm not dull. I am jaded. I'm not selfish or abusive but I am a bit of a dysfunctional fuck up. Nevertheless, this a damn great tune.

Emily Haines and the Soft Skeleton - Our Hell

My girl crush on Emily Haines is no secret but if it weren't for her stellar, slow, sad, self-deprecating solo album, Knives Don't Have Your Back, I wouldn't much care for the Metric frontwoman. I'll admit that the pairing of lyrics like "All we know how to do is forget how to do it right" and the sparse, melodic piano she almost always forgoes in Metric is a bit heavy and the album doesn't make for the greatest sunny day listening but during a gloomy day while you're reflecting about how much your love life blows, Haines composes some of the most perfect backdrops.

The Hold Steady - Stay Positive

From the band that brought you Amber's "Summer '08" anthem "Constructive Summer" comes another offering for the letter "H".

Interpol - Obstacle One

The early '00's brought us some real gems by way of New York and Interpol's one of my personal favorites, as you may have gathered. The sexiness of this song is as irresistible and if I were at a hip party (Probably populated only with people wearing black and white because what's hipper than that?) and I was leaning against a wall, talking to a guy, and this song came on, I would probably TOTALLY start making out with the guy. I can't guarantee that's a normal girl reaction to Interpol, however, so guys, don't take note.

Iron and Wine - Lion's Mane

Not all folk music is sad, kids! And not all dudes have such an epic beard as Sam Beam, Iron and Wine himself.

A to Z Week: Archers of Loaf to Daniel Johnston

2010-06-12T13:20:00.000-05:00

Archers of Loaf - Web In Front

Naturally, any A to Z mix ought to start with Archers of Loaf. Heck, any mix of any songs ever ought to start with Archers of Loaf. Grungy and unfazed, Archers of Loaf, for me, perfectly encapsulate the lust that boredom brings that is occasionally mistaken for love. Eric Bachman may not be quite as revered as the frontman of the next track, which is a shame, because he continues to be great until this day, as heard with Crooked Fingers, combining two of my favorite things: Legends of indie rock and acoustic guitars. Regardless of what he's doing now, in 1993, he created something magical with Archers of Loaf. It's a shame more people can't sing along to this song with me.

Built To Spill - Car

Remember when I said that the next band was slightly more revered than Archers of Loaf? Well, now you understand, don't you? Built To Spill are inarguably legends of indie and no road trip is complete without "Car" when Amber's in the car. I wish I'd have been lucky enough to have "Car" playing the first time I got high. Unfortunately, however, I was one of those obnoxious "straight edge" kiddos in high school and didn't touch a single drug, thus robbing me of the mind blowing revelation that, man... If I could see movies of my dreams, that would be so freaky and cool.

Bon Iver - Skinny Love

I feel as if Bon Iver (Not "Bob Eye-ver", Miley.) is going to go the way of Neutral Milk Hotel and David Bazan. In ten years, I think mid-20's "cool kids" will be talking about how life changing the record For Emma, Forever Ago was, just the way I talk about Pedro The Lion's It's Hard To Find A Friend. And that's not unjust at all. In fact, the biggest compliment I ever received was from an ex-fella who told me that I'm the type of girl Justin Vernon (Not "Bob", Miley.) wrote For Emma about. Sure, he meant to say "Amber, you're a soul crushing bitch." but damn, that's a good record, and "Skinny Love" is the most accessibly gorgeous.

Broken Social Scene - Anthems for a 17 Year Old Girl

It really is an anthem, no joke. Also, this marks the first of three appearances by Metric frontwoman Emily Haines. Oops?

Cold War Kids - Hang Me Up To Dry

I can name two Cold War Kids songs. This is one of them. Why? Because it's catchy as shit.

Cat Power - He War

I used to love Chan Marshall, the lady behind the moniker of Cat Power, so hard. I used to listen to her records as if I were reading scripture. I used to write her song lyrics in my journal. But somewhere around the travesty known as her "breakthrough" album, The Greatest (More like the LAMEST.), my love for Chan soured and I now think of her as a long term ex-wife or husband: We had a great love once and she used to be wonderful. But I just can't look at her like I used to. The love is gone. But You Are Free is still a classic record, although, let's face it, Marshall should have quit while she was ahead. If you're knowledge of "Miss Powers" only extends the past five years or so, please do yourself a favor and download Moon Pix and You Are Free. That's how Cat Power's supposed to sound.

The Dandy Warhols - Bohemian Like You

Ah, the Dandy Warhols. Making fun of hipsters before making fun of hipsters was cool and using damn cool song titles while they're at it. Seriously - "Not If You Were The Last Junkie On Earth"?! Sadly irrelevant these days, the Dandys are a band that I would love to see make a hardcore comeback.

Dawes - When My Time Comes

True story: When I interviewed Dawes, I had intended to ask frontman Taylor to marry me as the last question. I chickened out at the last minute. But hey, there's always Lollapalooza? C'mon, he and I would make a DAMN good looking couple! No denying it.

David Bazan - Fewer Broken Pieces

My favorite Bazan song, hands down. I've been known to call the former Pedro the Lion frontman the "Jesus of Indie Rock". I stand by that statement. My love for Bazan is serious business. If you don't believe me, add me on Facebook and look at the epic argument I had with a friend regarding the genius of Bazan in a wall post. Don't like Bazan? Fine. But if you insult him to me, and you're in a band, don't expect me to listen to your music with much attentiveness. It's like calling Jesus a pussy to a hardcore Christian.

Daniel Johnston - True Love Will Find You In The End

If Bazan is the Jesus of Indie, Johnston is the uncle that isn't quite right but is a pretty awesome guy anyhow. Johnston, the subject of documentary The Devil and Daniel Johnston, suffers publicly from bipolar disorder and seeing him last year at the Metro in Chicago was one of the more special experiences of my life. The man's a living legend. And he's also fulfilled one of my personal life goals: Recording a song with Okkervil River frontman Will Sheff. Lucky man!

The Hot Half Life Presents... Theme Week. The A to Z of Indie Rock.

2010-06-12T11:03:00.002-05:00

It's no secret that perhaps my favorite thing in the world is to make mixes for people. I've been doing it since middle school, trading tapes in the halls with my friends Jessica and Dawn, always disgusted by the radio pop and emotionally overwrought rock songs that I received weekly as I, in turn, shoved the discography of David Bazan down their throats with less than no appreciation shown for the genius they were receiving, courtesy of me! It was frustrating but eventually, I found my nitsch amongst people more of my ilk, people who not only appreciated my mixes, but made me amazing mixes themselves, featuring such early high school favorites as Braid and Archers of Loaf.

In a lot of ways, I'm still the same kid I was in eighth grade, perplexed at the appeal of Katy "Swagger Jacker" Perry as I spend my summer spinning Alvin Band, only now I have significantly better bangs.

Nowadays, as I believe I've mentioned before, in my social circle, I'm the Whats-Her-Name of the Teen Girl Squad, the token hipster pal who's great for mixes but not so great when it comes to making a party playlist because her idea of a "rockin' good time" is Interpol interspersed with Jane Birkin and Francoise Hardy. But usually when a friend's got a request or a question, it comes my way before too long. "Hey, I kind of want to listen to Wilco, what's a good starting off point?" is a common one but last week, my friend Sarah-With-An-H (A totally different entity from Sara-With-No-H) said "I have so much to learn about indie from you." to which I responded "DO YOU EVER!" perhaps a little too eagerly and then it was suggested that a mix or two happens.

So, with Sarah's mix, I have decided to fulfill one of my long time mix-making goals: Making a mix of indie songs in alphabetical order, A to Z, using each letter of the alphabet.

The results, 50 songs, covering each letter at least once, were too epic to just give to Sarah. It had to be shared with the world. Thus, I bring you another theme week! This time...

The Hot Half Life Presents 20 years in 50 songs: The A to Z of Indie Rock.

I hope you're reminded of some great older tunes and maybe discover some awesome new ones and enjoy snagging these songs just as much as I enjoyed putting them on the Moby Dick of mixes.

Music Video Week Bonus! Charlotte Gainsbourg? More Like Charlotte BABESburg, Am I Right?!

2010-06-12T10:38:00.000-05:00

Well, before we start another theme week here at the Hot Hot Half Life (Let's face it, this summer's topics are too lengthy for single posts per subject, I feel as if we're encroaching upon the season of theme weeks here.), I have a bonus for you, if for no reason other than Charlotte Gainsbourg is pretty to look at.

See what I mean?

Honestly, I love my originality. I like the way I look and I like my sense of style. I feel more like myself now, at this point in my life, than I ever have before. But, that being said, if there was any one woman in the world who I could look so suspiciously like that we might be related, it would be Gainsboug. She walks the line between gawky and gorgeous with more grace than I ever will and to say she's captivating is a supreme understatement. Maybe it's the French in me - Aren't all French people required by law to love Serge and any off springs he may have hatched? - but I don't think that's it. Gainsbourg has a very real appeal, be it in the Great Genital Mutilation Film of '09, Lars Von Trier's Antichrist, or be it with Beck and a pancake headed space man, the girl's got no shortage of appeal. Not a particularly great singer, Gainsbourg seems to need someone behind the scenes to direct her, be it Air, Jarvis Cocker, or her aforementioned current collaborator, Beck, but that doesn't make her any less appealing. Yeah, I usually like my creative types to do more when it comes to production and songwriting but shit, son. Have you seen her?

Music Video Week Part Seven: Karen Elson's "The Ghost Who Walks"? More Like The Babe Who Be's A Babe!

2010-06-11T07:54:00.000-05:00

Anyone who knows me knows quite well that of the following things, I love them all:

Jack White, folk music with spooky overtones, red heads, some damn good bangs, catchy songs, and pretty people.

But note that one of the things I didn't list is "supermodels who want a career outside of standing around in expensive clothes". Maybe I'm just bitter about Tyra Banks attempted music career of a few years back before she decided she was Oprah. Maybe it's also once-admirable-model-turned-strung-out-groupie Irina Lazareanu's Sean Lennon collaboration that (thankfully) never came to fruition (because the demos were horrible) that's left me with a sour taste in my mouth. But let's face it: The vast majority of models are simply pretty faces. There are exceptions, like cute-as-a-button-AND-talented-artist Sasha Pivivorova, and a slew of French multitaskers like Vanessa Paradis. For the most part, however, models should stick to two things: Drugs and eating disorders. I kid, I kid! Okay, not really, for the most part, which is sad because neither of those things are admirable or cool but I'm pretty sure escaping the modeling industry healthy and drug free is just as rare as a ballerina without bulimia. Regardless, models shouldn't sing.

Usually.

You see, Jack White can do no wrong. Well, except for maybe that time he got in a pretty famous altercation at Detroit's Magic Stick. And I've been into looking at supermodel Karen Elson for quite some time, so when White shacked up with Elson, I was pretty positive she was more than just a glorified clothes hanger - Although White did date Renee Zellweger but hey, we all make bad choices now and then. I'm just lucky enough to not be photographed with mine.

With svengali White behind her, Elson has released her debut album, on White's own label, and the two combine all the things I love that I first listed at the beginning of this entry.

Instead of being a model who sings, I more see Elson as America's answer to Charlotte Gainsbourg, one of those French multitaskers I mentioned earlier, only guess what? Elson makes better music! No joke. And while I do love me some Charlotte, Elson might be better to look at. Seriously. Check the girl out in her video for "The Ghost Who Walks", the spookiest sexy folk song this side of Timber Timbre.

Wait, wait, wait - She's gorgeous and she plays guitar and sings beautifully?! Honestly, I can't tell if I want to be Karen Elson or just go full lesbian for her.

Music Video Week Part Six: We Were Promised Jetpacks "Quiet Little Voices", Average Little Video.

2010-06-10T07:33:00.000-05:00

It sucks when a great song has a mediocre video.

We Were Promised Jetpacks' "Quiet Little Voices" is the kind of song that creeps into your head, slowly and seductively, and after a while of being familiar with the song, you suddenly find yourself wanting to hear it. At least that's what happened with me. To be honest with you, after sitting through a few We Were Promised Jetpacks' concerts in varying degrees of sobriety, I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to hear the tune again. A few months later, however, I found that it was near impossible to remove the track from my head.

"Quiet Little Voices" is a song that's evocative and sexy, as raucous as it is filled with longing, and to me, it conjured up images of a gorgeous girl filmed in black and white taking dirty polaroids of herself as the band played in the background. Sure, yeah, that was totally my treatment for Interpol's "Obstacle One" as well but let's face it: That video ought to be made! What's better than a gorgeous girl filmed in black and white taking dirty polaroids of herself? A gorgeous girl filmed in black and white taking dirty polaroids of herself while a sweet band plays an awesome song in the background! Duh!

So I was kind of disappointed when I youtubed the video for "Quiet Little Voices" and found this:

Absolutely standard in every way. This song deserves something cooler. So I leave you with this picture of Karen Elson, Jack White's lady and all around gorgeous girl, frolicking about in sheer clothes whilst being photographed in black and white. Imagine this girl in clutching a polaroid camera as We Were Promised Jetpacks rocked out behind her. Tell me that's not a winning idea for a video!

Late Night Eric Bachmann Appreciation Post... Sort Of.

2010-06-10T04:03:00.006-05:00

So if you were to say the name "Eric Bachmann" to a regular person, they'd probably reply with "Who?" but that's to be expected because the vast majority of the artists I feature on this blog are "Who?" worthy to the vast majority of people but that doesn't make them any less important and Eric Bachmann is no different.

Fact of the matter is that any indie kid who doesn't know at least half the words to "Web In Front" is kind of a disgrace. Bachmann is fantastic, from the trail blazing early nineties grungy Archers of Loaf to the lackadaisical folk of Crooked Fingers.

That being said, I must apologize to Bachmann because... Well, The National and St. Vincent's version of Crooked Fingers' "Sleep All Summer" trumps the original on all counts.

It's no secret that National frontman Matt Berninger has one of the most smooth and seductive voices around. Couple that with

For a long time, I avoided the track because it was so "buzzy" around this time last year. Couple that with an Archers of Loaf loyalty and you've got yourself one hesitant Amber. Love of two of the three parties involved (Unpopular Opinion: St. Vincent's okay.) and curiosity eventually won me over and despite my best interests, I adored The National and St. Vincent's take on "Sleep All Summer", a track which, naturally, lends itself to much summer listening.

On the lazy, warm nights when you want to reflect on the shamble-y status of your love life but the latent bitterness of Bon Iver's For Emma, Forever Ago just isn't doing it for you, "Sleep All Summer" is absolutely perfect, with truisms like "I could change for you but that doesn't mean I'm gonna be a better man" paired with some of the best poetic moments of Bachmann's years as a songwriter. Pair the perfection of the song with the way Berninger's and St. Vincent's Annie Clark's voices compliment each other perfectly, and you've got yourself a winning track for laying in bed and thinking about your ex, animosity free, or maybe, you know, that super cute guy you met that maybe something could happen with.

The National and St. Vincent - Sleep All Summer

None of my love for Berninger and the amazing things he does with Crooked Fingers' work discounts the talent of original songwriter Bachmann, of course. While the album that bore "Sleep All Summer" is arguably one of the triumphs of Bachmann's career, his latest venture with Crooked Fingers, Forfeit/Fortune, grows better with age and just shows that Bachmann's at his best with a bit of grit.

Crooked Fingers - Phony Revolutions

Music Video Week Part Five: Miniature Tigers "Gold Skull"; What?

2010-06-09T06:21:00.000-05:00

So I was going to start this blog out with the following sentence:

I'd like to say that I love the video for the aforementioned "song of the summer", "Gold Skull" by Miniature Tigers but I'm gonna be honest with you. I can't really tell what's going on.

But upon repeat viewings, I think the contrast of completely unlit and bright lights fit the sexy/creepy vibe of the song. I could say a lot more about it but I'm actually kind of tired at the moment so a dissertation of "Hipster Porn" will have to wait for another time.

You're heartbroken, I know.

Music Video Week Part Four: Dawes' "When My Time Comes".

2010-06-08T09:58:00.000-05:00

There aren't many bands that would see me brave the festival hell of Lollapalooza. You see, I hate festivals. To me, there isn't a single thing good about them. If you're there to get interviews and review sets, you're miserable, running from stage to stage and then across all of Grant Park to the press tent, only be shuffled around like an animal from angry manager to angry manager, all the while threats of interview cancelations abound if you don't move one manager's musician up by two hours, even though you already have another interview in that slotted time. And if you're just there to see Lollapalooza as a fan... Why? Why pay hundreds of dollars to see bands you love play a watered down set of only their "crowd pleasing favorites" and most "accessible" songs to an huge audience of stoned festival goers who don't give a shit? Wait three months and see the band on the next leg of their tour, you'll have a better experience, trust me.

So give all of this, why is is that I'm so damn excited for Lollapalooza this year?

Well, in my opinion, the fest has never had a better lineup, appealing to the guilty pleasure loving pop fan within, the obnoxious hipster I can't help myself from being, and the indie kid I really am, all at once, without faltering.

Phoenix. The National. Spoon. MGMT. Lady Gaga. Deer Tick. Edward Sharpe. Arcade Fire. The Walkmen. Frightened Rabbit. The Morning Benders. Royal Bangs. Jukebox the Ghost. Hot Half pals Miniature Tigers. And a quartet of lovely fellas that go by the moniker of Dawes.

I have to admit that The National is the band I'm most excited to see, as I haven't yet lost my National virginity and let me tell you, I can't wait to get rid of it. Following my favorite Brooklyn-by-way-of-Cincinnati residents, however, I'm most anxious for a repeat experience with Dawes.

To say the guys have talent beyond their years is an understatement. It's only a matter of time before Dawes crosses over into the collective consciousness of the rest of the world and mainstreamers will start to pick up on what indie rockers have known for the past year: Dawes is special. And not "Eat The Paste" special. They're the type of band that doesn't come around very often and when they do, you want to know them.

Now, the California natives have released a video for one of the strongest tracks on their debut, "When My Time Comes".

And if you think that's something, just check out what they do live. You know, preferably in person at Lollapalooza or their pre-Lolla Cincinnati date. But if you can't make either of those, this'll do, I guess.

Music Video Week Part Three: Metric's "Stadium Love"; What Beats Scantily Clad Girls in Cages?

2010-06-06T23:37:00.002-05:00

Funny thing about those Metric kids: They seem to consistently release solid CDs but, for some reason, they constantly choose to release my least favorite tracks off said albums as "singles".

The phrase "single" doesn't mean much in this day and age because, let's face it, what artist featured on this blog is ever going to get radio airplay? What a single does mean, however, is a music video for what, presumably, should be a stand out track and getting to see your favorite musicians enact strange scenarios is entertaining, right?

Moreso than being entertaining, however, most music videos offer artists a place to do something really goofy, memorable, or strangely touching in a short span. In fact, we covered both of those categories earlier this week, with Josh Ritter's "The Curse" taking "strangely touching" and Mayer Hawthorne winning over hipster hearts the world over with "One Track Mind". So what does that leave us to cover today? Well, unfortunately, it leaves us with Metric's "Stadium Love".

Don't get me wrong, I love Metric but tracks like "Stadium Love" and previous single "Gold Gun Girls" are the two tracks that have me reaching for the "next track" button whilst listening to Fantasies. I've often said the best thing about Metric is the fact that they juxtapose wry, self deprecating lyrics with dance music and songs like "Gimme Sympathy" or "Twilight Galaxy" are far better examples of that than the subpar "Gold Gun Girls" or "Stadium Love", arguably the weakest two tracks on the band's latest disc. The only thing, perhaps, that could make "Stadium Love" weaker is a weak video and... Oh, look what we have here.

So what does beat scantily clad girls in cages? Well, lots of things. Chipotle, for instance. Kittens. Chunky milk on the rocks. Wait... Scratch that last one. Anyhow, the fact is that Metric's delivered an insufferably cliche music video with "Stadium Love".

Don't get me wrong, it's shot great, and Emily Haines is always pleasant to look at, but if the crew on board seriously thought "Hey! It'd be real groundbreaking if we made Emily wear a super small dress and attempt to seduce the camera while in a cage. And, wait, wait, get this - The ANIMALS are LOOKING AT HER. Like a commentary on society! Oh my gosh, it's so meta or something, you guys!", they're laughably amateur.

Plus, as beautiful as Emily is, seeing her try to look so blatantly sexy takes away a lot of the uniqueness that makes her so attractive in the first place. Many of Haines' songs are about how a sexy, confident woman is the one thing she is not and seeing someone trying to make her into that is, to quote Haines herself, like watching girls in stilettos trying to run.

Let's face it, at the end of the day, isn't this a lot better?

Music Video Week Part Two: Mayer Hawthrone Turns On The Charm

2010-05-31T21:05:00.000-05:00

So one of the things that brought on this "Music Video Week" was the fact that it wasn't that long ago that the music video seemed like a completely dead artform. With MTV languishing in vapid, reality television hell and VH1 dealing with washed up drug addicts rather than adult contemporary and pop musicians, it seemed like the music video was going to go the way of the 8 track. Video may have killed the radio star but the internet and cheap-to-produce television killed the video star about two decades later.

Viral phenoms like those Midwestern scamps OK Go have revived music videos, and oft-viewed videos (Something that seemed five years back like it would become simply reserved for the priciest of pop stars) are now being made for dang near free by indie musicians in the artist's own backyard. Literally, sometimes.

This year it's more apparent than ever that the music video is alive and kicking, with unique videos being released by singular artists constantly and it's no longer simply a camera filming a fellow with his guitar, trying his darnedest to look hip. Yesterday, I blogged about Josh Ritter's more-perfect-than-perfect "The Curse" and it's successor is a fellow named Mayer Hawthorne with a video that plays out like an innocent, 1950's version of Lars and The Real Girl.

Seriously, I dare you to not have a crush on Mayer Hawthorne after watching this charmingly directed bit of perfectly produced pop bliss. I can attest that this gal didn't know all that much about Mister Hawthorne before this video made it's way onto my desk last week but in the days between then and now, Ann Arbor native Mayer's A Strange Arrangement has been weaseling it's way in to my summer rotation.

Additionally, you may have noted that Mayer Hawthorne is from the very same area I am from, the Detroit-Metro-Ann-Arbor-Ypsi conglomerate. Chances are, Mister Hawthorne, you have a google alert for your name so you may or may not be reading this. If you are, let's go grab coffee next time you're in town so you can charm my pants off in person.

Hitting on musicians via her blog? Yep, there goes my integrity...

Music Video Week Part One: Josh Ritter's "The Curse"; Romance and Tragedy... Via Puppets.

2010-05-30T20:38:00.001-05:00

I can say with almost complete certainty that puppets have never made me cry until yesterday.

I almost feel half bad writing this blog but relevance it's relevance and not only is the following artist relevant to my life but he's becoming increasingly relevant in the public eye, finding himself the darling of NPR and Paste magazine in recent years.

I'm talking about Josh Ritter, a man who has been featured on The Hot Half Life no less than four times this month, pushing him dangerously close to Okkervil River territory. I can't help it though. Not only has Ritter released a nearly flawless LP this month but he's also made youtube all the more wonderful with his video for a "Southern Pacifica" duet with his wife and now, "The Curse", a track I fawned over in the past and have listened to over fifty times according to iTunes, has been made into what might be the most perfect music video ever made, and can be seen on the aforementioned Ritter loving NPR.

The song's lyrics, perhaps the best example of Ritter's impeccable storytelling from his no-short-of-prolific career, lend itself to a very straight forward music video, telling the tale of a beautiful young archaeologist who, in Egypt, unearths a mummy who awakens. It's love at first sight as the two travel back to the U.S. before the mummy is placed in a museum. Eventually, he grows tired of his confinement and that's when things not only get interesting and whimsical but also so beautifully heartbreaking that I cried the first time I heard the track. And I'm so tough that I can literally count how many times I've cried in the past year on one hand. So the fact that Josh touched me so deeply is saying quite a bit. And the fact that the song made me, a girl who has never wanted a serious boyfriend much less to fall in love, want to experience the type of adoration that Ritter sang about is saying even more.

The video for "The Curse" is acted out just as it's sung only instead of using actors (Although the song would lend itself perfectly to a twist on the classic Karloff Mummy movie), the video is produced with marionettes that were crafted by Ritter's multitalented drummer, Liam Hurley.

I didn't think that "The Curse" could get any more endearing than it had but Hurley has managed just that.

Anyone who hasn't taken a chance on Josh Ritter's music owes it to themself to set aside five minutes to watch "The Curse".

You won't be sorry.

The Hot Half Life Presents... Theme Week, Volume One.

2010-05-30T19:39:00.001-05:00

Every now and then, I get on a mega-kick with writing. It's funny because when I have no reason to write, I seem to get a million ideas, however, when a deadline is rapidly approaching, I tend to scoff and put it off as any good writer would.

So I was having one of these "big time writing" days and queuing up various posts for this here Hot Half Life when I realized that an alarming amount of these entries were focusing on something I hadn't spent very much time on in the past: Music videos.

Thus, I've decided to introduce the first Hot Half Life theme week, focusing on new music videos and a few old ones that are worth a watch.

First up? Josh Ritter's absolutely beautiful video for not only my favorite track off his latest record, So Runs The World Away. but also one of my favorite tracks of his no-short-of-prolific career, "The Curse". What's better to kick things off than one of my favorite artists? Well, kicking things off with one of my favorite artists and marionettes! Let's do this, kids.

Examining The Existential Questions Posed By Interpol

2010-05-29T10:23:00.008-05:00

Interesting Hot Half Fact About Interpol:

Interpol makes me feel extraordinarily hip. For me, Interpol is the only American band that makes me feel like taking suggestive black and white pictures, dress all in monochrome, chain smoke menthol cigarettes, and wear ridiculously large sunglasses. Usually, only French music makes me feel that way.

What I'm getting at is that Interpol makes me feel like a hipster.

And I'm okay with that.

Sure, I scoffed at the band for being "Joy Division Redux" when their debut, Turn On The Bright Lights, came out of New York in the hey day of genuine New York hipster music (Seriously, remember when The Strokes and Yeah Yeah Yeahs first came out and people didn't scoff at you for trying to dress like Karen O. but instead thought you looked both crazy original and just-plain-crazy?), but did my complaints keep me from rocking the quartet's CD all summer long? Not in the slightest. It doesn't seem to matter how long I go without listening to Interpol, it seems the lyrics to "Obstacle 1" are engrained in my head, and with good reason. To me, "She puts the weights into my little heart and she gets in my room and she takes it apart" is the epitome of early 2000's hipster lust.

I'm not going to lie and say that I adore Interpol. I have a solid amount of respect for them and, in turn, the solo career of Paul "Why isn't he dating me?" Banks under the moniker Julian Plenti, featuring video cameos from Hot Half Girl Crush Emily Haines of Metric but I've never been a huge fan of the fellas. Now, that's striking me as sort of shame.

You see, there seem to be two types of music I really take a shine to. The first is that folk stuff I wax poetic so often about. The second is seductive rock and roll with fuzzy vocals and a dapper lead singer, a fondness for which not only explains my ridiculous crush on Franz Ferdinand lead singer Alex Kapranos but also begs the question, Why didn't Interpol ever rise to Ferdinandian ranks in Hot Half Hq? Also, while we're asking questions, would bands like Bad Veins sound the same if it weren't for Interpol proving there was a place in the world for cinematic indie rock and distorted vocals outside of garage rock? Would I have developed such high standards for fellas if it weren't for dapper gentlemen like Kapranos and Banks? And why the heck don't more guys dress like they're in Inpterpol?

Ah, the existential questions posed by Interpol, the answers to which we may never know.

In the meantime, make like me: Blast these songs, put on your best skinny black pants, and look self-important.

Interpol - Obstacle 1

Julain Plenti - Only If You Run

The Song Of The Summer: A Look At Miniature Tigers "Gold Skull".

2010-05-28T09:14:00.000-05:00

It wasn't that long ago that I posted about my most recent Miniature Tigers adventure, this time at the Majestic Cafe in fabulous, luxurious Detroit, marking my first trip to the younger sibling venue of the haunt of my youth, The Magic Stick, and marking the, I believe, fifth time I've seen the Tigers in the span of one year. To keep from repeating myself verbatim, I'll simply direct you either back to the original review or below, to a short summary of the events that unfolded in mid-April (You know, minus all the stuff that doesn't pertain to the music because someone's got journalistic "integrity" to keep):

The Phoenix-L.A.-New York quartet's debut, Tell It To The Volcano, consisted almost entirely of a timeless sort of indie pop. Taking their cues from early 2000 bands like the sunshiny Phantom Planet and the only good album Weezer ever produced, Miniature Tigers put out a record that was at once classic and completely modern, making an instantly endearing LP that didn't catch on nearly as much as it should have. If there's one band that every person who appreciates lovely music should adore, then it's probably Okkervil River. But if there's two bands that every person who appreciates lovely music should adore, then it's Okkervil River and Miniature Tigers.

Although I had heard a vast majority of the band's new material after seeing them play multiple times in multiple states over the past twelve months and I quite liked it all, the fact of the matter was that the prospect of a new Tigers album made me just as apprehensive as it did excited. After such a solid debut, where was there to go?

Up, apparently, if lead single "Gold Skull" is any indication.

This is the type of song that has the potential to invade Sirius Satellite Radio, blow up the blogosphere, be featured in Apple iPod commercials, and weave it's way into the world's collective summer consciousness, turning Miniature Tigers from under-appreciated indie darlings into crossover sensations, not unlike Phoenix, who's "1901" tried to make me by a Lexus and who's "Listomania" is still inescapable on Sirius 21 through 26.

I've always been of the opinion that organic music is better than synthetic production but that's a phrase I might soon find myself eating because the dancability of "Gold Skull" is undeniable wonderful. Since making it's debut on Stereogum, the track has become something of a summer anthem, worming it's way onto every mix I produce and easily quickly becoming the most played song of the season at Hot Half Life HQ.

Miniature Tigers - Gold Skull

For me, the mark of a truly wonderful song is if I can imagine it playing during a montage of movie-esque moments from my life and in my opinion, "Gold Skull" is some Focus Features shit. Let's, for a moment, explore the idea that my life is a painfully self-aware indie romantic comedy, about a young music journalist who's spent the majority of her twenty something years being so career driven that she's let her personal life go by the wayside. After her magazine goes under, she finds herself returning home to Detroit and realizes that there's only one thing she needs in her life and it isn't her job. It's love. Of course, learning to "let people in" is easier said than done so much hijinks ensue.

During the inevitable wacky road trip that she takes with two or three of her most darling friends, across the country to go see a wicked killer concert that cannot be missed, "Gold Skull" would undoubtably be playing as the girls drove in the sunshine, with their windows down, and sunglasses on. Think the driving scenes in Wristcutters: A Love Story. Only with less facial hair.

So what are you waiting for? Snag that track and score your own summer.

Like what you hear? Preoder the forthcoming FORTRESS and while you're at it, do what I did and spring for the sweet bundle to get yourself the album, a record, a tee shirt and the bag that I'm more excited than words can describe to use, meaning that after a good year run, I can finally retire my Bad Veins tote and upgrade to canvas that features not just incredible art by Tiger Rick Alvin Schaier but incredible art by Tiger Rick Alvin Schaier that features boobs.

He Is The Dot.

2010-05-27T22:54:00.005-05:00

Nothing bums me out more than an awesome indie band that releases an infectiously perfect and blissful song that goes unnoticed by the mass populous.

That's pretty much what happened with Denver's amazing duo, Young Coyotes. "Momentary Drowning" is everything that's great about music: Woahs. Handclaps. Dreamy vocals. A melody that takes you by surprise at almost every turn.

Why didn't that song go the way of MGMT's "Kids"? That's a mystery. Young Coyotes haven't made my dream come true of taking the opening slot on the fictional Zoo Tour which would feature the aforementioned Coyotes and Hot Half Favorites Miniature Tigers opening for Grizzly Bear. The Coyotes haven't even recorded a full length album.

While that does bum me out to an incredible degree, Young Coyotes also happen to be connected to something that makes me one of the happiest reformed hipsters in the world: A member of an awesome band taking part in a just-as-if-not-more-awesome side project. In this case, that project is Zach Tipton's I Am The Dot, making Tipton quite possibly the only man in the world who is in two equally awesomely named bands. Seriously: Young Coyotes. I Am The Dot. Who wouldn't rock tee shirts proclaiming those phrases? I'll tell you who: Squares.

While the name is a damn cool hook to get people to listen in, that isn't the best part of I Am The Dot by a long shot.

Young Coyotes have produced some incredibly catchy and evocative tracks on their two EP's, the first of which is available on the band's site for free, and Tipton continues the trend on his self titled and Minimal Love EP. Top it off with the fact that Tipton reps my hood in the song "Detroit, MI", and you've got yourself three of the top ingredients that make your band automatically beloved by Amber.

The results of I Am The Dot recall the dreamy nostalgia of The Shins first record, before Garden State ruined the magic of "New Slang", and it's an ace example of the right kind of lo-fi, not engineered insincerely to appeal to listeners the current lo-fi trend but rather purposefully. Tipton is producing the kind of indie pop that more bands ought to take note of.

Don't believe me? Take a listen for yourself.

I Am The Dot - Oranges

Sadly, no Tipton project appears to be touring outside of the general Colorado area any time soon so I suggest you support I Am The Dot and Young Coyotes by becoming a fan of both I Am The Dot and Young Coyotes on facebook and buying their EPs, if only for the fact that I want Tipton to play "Detroit, MI" in Detroit, MI and I've always wanted to clap along to "Momentary Drowning".

The Hot Half Life is Late On The Uptake.

2010-05-27T17:40:00.001-05:00

Sometimes, an album is so anticipated and hyped that the only thing I can do when it finally comes across my desk is... Well... Ignore it.

I say this sheepishly because some of the biggest albums in indie this year have gone woefully unlistened to by me. Broken Social Scene? I'm sure it's good but I just haven't had time. The Hold Steady? I love them so much but it's just not a priority. Joanna Newsom? Oh come on, it's three discs long, that's too pretentious, even for me. In fact, the only new release I think I listened to quite literally the moment I got it was Josh Ritter's mini-masterpiece So Runs The World Away but let's face it, that's a special case. Call me a music snob but sometimes, I'd rather delve into the unknown and discover something new or reminisce about an already beloved artists' stellar back catalog than fawn over the awesome new album that every blog, aggregator, and magazine is shoving down your throat.

That's why a good two months after it's release I'm only just not getting around to listening to The National's latest release.

I know that's something of blasphemy. Not only am I an indie kid, ergo expected to love The National, I'm also a Cincinnati-ite, ergo it's mandatory for me to have at least two albums by the Ohio-by-way-of-Brooklyn band on my iPod. Seriously. Find me someone of a hip persuasion in The Queen City who can't sing along to "Mr. November", and I'll show you a damn phony.

I've admitted before that The National grew on me slowly, after being beloved by all my indie rock adoring pals for at least two albums. Now, finally, I'm just as fond of them as the majority of my peers, with the group steadily climbing up from the dregs of my Last.fm chart and easing their way into my regular rotation. After being at first fairly underwhelmed by the lead single, "Bloodbuzz Ohio", off their latest album, the beautifully named High Violet, I realized that The National is one of those bands that has to grow on me as a whole. You see, I heard Alligator upon it's release and I listened to it once before shelving it for nearly two years. It was the same situation with The Boxer. Given that, I just wasn't entirely excited or willing to devote time to High Violet when I could spend it listening to, well, Okkervil River. What can I say? I'm predictable.

So it came as quite a shock to me that upon my first listen of High Violet, I found myself not remotely unimpressed. In fact, I didn't even find the CD "tolerable" or "decent". Instead, I found it to be excellent and very "National"-esque, meaning, I found it consistently solid, lyrically impeccable, and the musical equivalent of a very attractive earthworm, burying itself in the dirt of your brain and staying there, melodically boring into the very core of your thoughts.

The thing that I've come to love the most about The National is the fact that every CD The National makes is a monument to the emptiness and disillusionment one feels as they enter into adulthood. What's more depressing than being a writer who has to work a minimum wage day job just to get by? What's more tragic than a musician who has to sell their guitars to make rent? And what's more upsetting than an artist buried in student loans to pay for a degree that hasn't earned them a cent of recognition or profit? "Nothing" is the answer to all three of the questions posed and if the sentiment of being buried under your own misery is one you can relate to, then The National has an anthem for you.

All the familiar National themes are present on High Violet: Making missteps in your personal life, feeling overwhelmed by disappointment with your professional life, faltering in love, you know, all the things you go through in your twenties that make you feel like the all the magic's been sucked out of life and that's the main reason that The National have been getting increasingly more plays at Hot Half Life Headquarters. Let's face it: Being an adult fucking sucks and admitting failure sucks even more. If Lightning Love is the soundtrack to all the moments that I feel like a total fuck up but at peace with that fact and happy to not let it stand in the way of my good time, The National is the soundtrack to all the moments that I feel like a total fuck up who doesn't understand how life's going to ever be even a quarter of what I once thought it would be.

Sure, it's a depressing sentiment but the fact that I'm not alone in feeling that way is a beacon of hope in itself and while encapsulating those emotions, The National have made what is, in my opinion, the best album of their career.

The National - Anyone's Ghost

Track Removed At The Request of Record Label

Love Songs For Breakfast.

2010-05-26T06:17:00.008-05:00

Two posts in one day? What's the world coming to? I hate to do it but I'm starting out my birthday the best way I know how: With love songs and cigarettes. Really, isn't that how every day should be started? Plus, after you watch the following video, you'll understand: This gem is too amazing not to share.

Josh Ritter and his too-cute-for-words wife, Dawn, performing "Southern Pacifica", another near perfect love song (with an absolutely stellar chorus, by the by) off Josh's latest, masterfully crafted So Runs The World Away. What tops this off, however? Josh and Dawn perform this in their kitchen. Hello heart. Prepare to be melted.

Oh, Hey, I'm Getting Older.

2010-05-26T02:19:00.002-05:00

So it appears my birthday has rolled around again. It seems to happen every time this year and, well, since it's currently slightly after three a.m., I'm not sure exactly how this here birthday is gonna treat me yet but I hope it involves dresses, family, friends, a ridiculous headband or crown or two, and gorging myself on so much cake that I feel the strong desire to vomit... Y'know, in a delicious way.

Anyhow, I'm not going to reflect on this year much but it's been a whirlwind. Last year on my birthday, I cut off all of my hair in my bathroom, going from roughly twenty inches of hair to about five, and I guess there was some sort of transformative-finding-myself thing that took place. I moved from Chicago to Ohio to Michigan. I met literally hundreds of new people. I lost friends. I made friends. And now I'm willing to go out on a limb and say that, in the past two months, I've turned from a cynic and a skeptic back to a ridiculous optimist. I'm quite possibly happier now than I've ever been and I know that trend is going to continue throughout the rest of the year, maybe even the rest of my life. How do I know that? I just do. It's a blind sort of faith in happiness that I haven't had for six years or so and finding it again has basically changed me. I feel pretty bad for all the people I got close to in the past half-decade in a sense because the pessimistic and ruthless version of me that they met isn't me at all. I guess it's that whole finding yourself thing. And I found that naivety, expecting the best out of everyone I encounter, is a part of me that I like.

So this year, well, this will be our year.

And who are the we that I mention in this "our"? It's me. It's my friend Sara. It's other Sarah, Heidi, Gina, and the rest of the Gharbellyager clan that has helped make my return to Michigan less transitional and more like a real home. It's that boy fella I've got a crush on. It's my old family. It's my new family. It's my friends. It's everyone I've met and everyone I'm going to meet. Every musician I've successfully interviewed and every musician whose music has become a part of my day to day existence. It's you, if you're reading this, whether I know you or not. It's all the people I've loved and all the people who've died that I miss. It's me and it's you and I meant, when I set out to write this, to literally write five short sentences and call it a night. But I don't think I'm capable of keeping it short and sweet, am I? What can I say? I'm a novelist at heart.

What were those five original sentences, you might wonder? (Heck, I know you're probably not wondering but I'm going to pretend you were anyhow.)

So it's my birthday. I could wax poetic about that but I won't bore you. Instead, listen to this. It makes me happy for reasons I could list but sometimes, the song should speak for itself and at the end of the day, nothing sounds better to me than a simple folk song. I love it and I hope you do to.

Josh Ritter - Long Shadows

I Need Some Fine Wine and You, You Need To Be Nicer.

2010-05-25T11:45:00.005-05:00

I used to wish that I was hip enough to say that my first concert had been Neutral Milk Hotel or Built To Spill (the latter of which you can see on a forthcoming Kings of Revlon tour, shaming the very fundamentals of music itself and encapsulating everything that's wrong with the music industry) but let's face it, I'm not quite old enough for that. At least I can boast that the cd I bought was Elliott Smith's Either/Or, followed promptly by discs by the two aforementioned indie legends. My first concert though? Well, it was a late '90's one hit wonder.

That used to make me feel sort of ashamed, as if I owed my indie roots better, as if my twelve year old self should have been just slightly more pretentious. It ends up, however, looking back, I knew something at twelve that I didn't at twenty:

The Cardigans are awesome.

A few years post-twenty and I appreciate that fact now, just as much, if not more than I did at twelve.

Hook laden melodies? Check. Interesting and unpredictable instrumentation that keep the band from being totally pop? Check. Sugary sweet vocals and lyrics that are alternately bitterly witty and just plain darling? Check. Completely sincere covers of metal songs? Double Check!

Combine that with the fact that frontwoman Nina Persson is a turbobabe and you've got yourself a charming band of Swedish winners that vie with True Blood's Alexander Skarsgard for the honor of being the countries best export.

Predecessors for much adored female fronted bands like Metric and The Bird and the Bee, I believe that if the Cardigans had emerged a decade later, they'd be a treasured indie band, remembered for all the things that make them so great, catchy, underrated, and glorious. But the fact of the matter is that the quintet is remembered instead for their one big hit, "Lovefool", a track more relevant now than it has been in over a decade thanks to teen pop sensation Justin "His Hair Really Knows Where It Wants To Go!" Beiber who hijacked the chorus of the track for a song I don't know the name of and really don't feel like googling. "Lovefool" is a damn glorious song, a perfect bit of pop that's just as irresistible now as it was in the summer of '96 when it was at it's peak of being ridiculously overplayed. Even so, it's sort of sad that if you mention The Cardigans to anyone who was alive in the '90's, that's the only thing they'll remember.

What they won't remember is the fact that the band abandoned the cotton candy sound of their first three discs completely in 1998 when they released the edgy, dark Gran Turismo, which featured all of the bands hooks but none of the pop pretense, seeing Persson replace fresh faced lyrics about the love with lines about substance problems, physical abuse, and love gone wrong. Pair the heartbreaking subject matter with Persson's sweet-as-ever voice and the band's tight and appealing melodies and you've got yourself a band that's just as hip as they ever were.

The Cardigans - Iron Man

The Cardigans - Your Favourite Game (Acoustic)

If anything goes wrong, Desmond Hume will be my constant.

2010-05-23T15:15:00.000-05:00

Tonight, six years of my life comes to an end.

What does that mean? No more Geranimo Jack's Beard podcasts, no more trolling Dark UFO for spoilers, no more sharing theories at ONTD_Lost, no more mysteries, no more numbers, no more left-field character deaths, no more jears (Jack Shepard's tears, for the uninitiated), no more smoke monster, no more time travel, no more Hurley bird, no more fish biscuits, no more four toed statue, no more Crazy Jungle Claire and her squirrel baby, no more lame C4 casualties (Seriously, it was crazy cool and unexpected when it was Leslie "Mister Fabulous" Arzt, but it was played out when it was Ilana), no more Dharma initiative, no more Jack-Kate-Sawyer triangle, no more flashbacks, flashforwards, or flashswideways, and no more tailies... Oh wait, there were no more tailies by the time Season Two ended. Never mind.

It means there's no more snark from Miles, no more guyliner from Richard, no more nicknames from Sawyer, no more cheering for siblings Boone and Shannon to bone again, no more Pedobear feelings for little Jacob or David Shepard, no more wondering what the heck happened with Walt, and most importantly, no more Princess Faraday, which is probably the most heartbreaking part of this whole thing.

Obviously, I'm talking about the monstrously epic tale of the survivors of Oceanic Flight 815, Lost, a television show I've followed since the beginning. What can I say? Everything about this show is perfect and flawed at the same time, just like it's characters. Sure, all my favorites were killed off before the final season started earlier this year but regardless, I love this show as much as I hate it and it's leaving an island shaped hole in my heart.

So, in memorium of all the characters we've loved and - You guessed it! - lost, from Boone in season one, to Jin, Sun, and Sayid just a few weeks ago, I bring you a lovely ukelele strummed version of the show's sorrowful "Oh god, they're really gone!" jear-ful theme "Life and Death", as well as some of my favorite LOL-tastic, internet provided moments from the most recent chapter in my multimedia existence.

Life and Death - Jared Matthes

The Hot Half Life Examines... Perfect Songs. Part One.

2010-05-20T18:48:00.005-05:00

I know it's unusual for me to post multiple times in the same month about an songwriter that isn't named Will Sheff but bear with me for a moment.

A few years back, I was briefly seeing this fellow. Obviously, it ended poorly (With me being dumped via e-mail, if we want to get specific but we don't need to talk about that. Specifics are for squares.) but we shared some fairly epic correspondences. This, of course, was in the naive days of youth when a three hour distance seemed earth shattering, something I scoff at now because in the years since, I've spent the majority of my time seeing people who lived anywhere from twelve to thirty two hours away from my midwestern locale but I've found that distance is, for me at least, something of a luxury. It gives me the excuse to handwrite letters, send out care packages, and craft mix cds but above all, it gives both myself and the other party involved the chance to get to know each other on a level more substantial than one would if your meetings were all casual, face-to-face encounters in barrooms and bedrooms. With carnal flirtation removed from your list of options, you get to find out if someone fits with you, compliments you, and contrasts you if need be. And hey, if butterflies can last via letters and text messages until the next time they manage to make it to your end of the country, well, then you've probably found yourself a keeper.

Anyhow, the aforementioned boy (Who we'll call "Stephen" here, for no particular reason at all) and I would send each other pages-long e-mails daily, compile songs we wanted to expose the other to, and banter back and forth about writing, existentialism, and all those other pretentious things that college aged hipsters banter about.

One day, I decided to make Stephen a mix of "perfect songs". Included were Iron and Wine's "The Trapeze Singer", Okkervil River's "A King and A Queen", and John Lennon's "Real Love", amongst seven to nine others.

He broke up with me before I could give him the cd and we tried to be friends but whoever started the facebook group "'We can still be friends' is like 'Your dog is dead but you can still keep the corpse'" was spot on. Knowing that my feelings were unreciprocated made the effort involved in keeping in touch not bittersweet, but just bitter.

I haven't thought of that for a long time. At the time, I was pretty devastated but I only felt that devastation for maybe a week or so and it hasn't affected me since. The only piece of that story that lingers is the bit about perfect songs because every now and then, something strikes you, and for me, it's usually a song that doesn't pertain to my life but rather a song that I wish could pertain to my life. Bon Iver's For Emma, Forever Ago is packed with perfect songs and perfect fragments of songs. The Monster of Folk himself, M. Ward, writes some of the most perfect love songs of our generation. And, naturally, that Will Sheff fellow has quite a few moments of sheer perfection, as evident on the majority of Okkervil River's Black Sheep Boy LP.

Earlier this month, I featured the collaboration between Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore. What I didn't feature, however, was the late-album stunner "Sweet Marie".

I could write another dozen or so paragraphs on what exactly makes this song so damn beautiful, why the lyrics and melody fit together so well, and how the cello and acoustic guitar couldn't be better matched for the soft waltz of the heart breakingly hopeful "Sweet Marie", but it would all be wasted because the song doesn't need explaining. It just needs your time.

Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore - Sweet Marie

Please Turn On Your Magic Beam, Mr. Sandman, Bring Me A Dream

2010-05-06T17:49:00.004-05:00

Here's a fun fact about Amber for you: Thanks to spending so much time at her grandmother's house when she was a wee little thing, she has a ridiculous weakness for old songs. "Moon River", "Somewhere Over the Rainbow", "My Boyfriend's Back", just about anything from The Sound of Music or any Shirley Temple film, heck, I'm pretty sure I still know Patsy Cline's greatest hits by heart, from "Walking After Midnight" to "Triangle". After we veer out of Judy Garland territory, my admission gets slightly less cool but if I cared about being cool, I wouldn't say or do half the things I say and do.

Let's face it, I'm a nerd. I once admitted that fact to a fella I was courting while we were standing on his porch, smoking cigarettes. He told me that wasn't something I was supposed to tell people but no matter how calm and collected I pretend to be, at the end of the day, I still like to curl up with a Scott Pilgrim graphic novel and put on some Hellboy.

It seems to me, however, that "nerdy" interests like superheroes are more socially acceptable in my age group than admitting you know all the words to "Animal Crackers In My Soup".

One of my favorite songs from my youth has been recorded by youtube phenoms Pomplamoose, best known for their "indie-fied" takes on songs like "Single Ladies" and "Telephone".

What exactly is it about "Mr. Sandman" that makes me so dang happy? Well, to me, it's sort of the audible version of a Princess story. The way girls hold tales like Cinderella and Snow White in cherished, high regard is the way I feel about "Mr. Sandman" and not even it's prevalence in the Halloween movies could ruin that. "Mr. Sandman" is the type of song that makes me want to have a ridiculous crush - The kind that makes you feel young and happy in the most simplistic of ways, the kind that makes you smile for no reason and daydream too much. It's the kind of crush that makes you want to take walks around the lake with a certain cute boy, and sit in the park with him drinking milkshakes. Yes, that's all very fifties but so is the song so it works. At least in my head it does.

Pomplamoose - Mr. Sandman

Something, Somewhere, Sometime.

2010-05-04T06:08:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I feel lucky to be a bit of a traveller. I don't identify one particular area as my "home" but rather, the entire Midwest. Detroit will always hold a special place in my heart as I in west Detroit, I was born and raised, although I didn't spend most of my days on a playground, but rather at a book store and then later, a hole in the wall haven called Repeat the Beat. Chicago was always a dream for me growing up, the holy grail of living a happy life, and I still hold the area in high regard. As for Cincinnati, it's a wonderful city filled with some of the most creative people I've ever met. I'm one tenure in Indianapolis away from having conquered the entire Midwest!

Anyhow, whenever any band emerges from obscurity and on to my radar from any of the above listed cities I've dwelled in, I can't help but feel a sense of pride. Perhaps I feel that way the most about Cincinnati because of my age and the fact that I was so "in it" there, much more so than I was in Chicago as the fact of the matter is that Chicago's local scene is severely lacking because of all the immense amount of national acts that live there and travel through.

When Lexington's Ben Sollee and Northern Kentucky's Daniel Martin Moore released their collaboration on Subpop, it generated quite a bit of interest in the local Cincinnati scene because, for those not in the know, Northern Kentucky is an honorary part of Cincinnati. For example, I road my bike to Kentucky on more than a few occasions and Cincinnati's main venue, the Southgate House, is right across the river in Ky's Newport. The interest in the release was not unwarranted and it only takes one listen to any of their songs, particular the featured track "Something, Somewhere, Sometime" to understand why these two relative unknowns from Kentucky landed a deal on Subpop.

The songs on the duo's collaborative release Dear Companion have a timeless quality to them that make it almost guaranteed that the songs will age impeccably. Equal parts affectingly honest lyrics and elaborately delicate melodies driven by Moore's Appalachian tinged guitar and peppered with Sollee's cello, Dear Companion has already secured itself a high spot of the best albums of 2010. It's certainly the best album of 2010 so far and I highly doubt too much will be able to force it down the list (Although Lightning Love and Miniature Tigers are probably going to do just that, as both Hot Half Favorites will be releasing their sophomore albums before too long).

Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore - Something, Somewhere, Sometime

Sometimes I wish I could make a cd for ex-fellas explaining why things went wrong. "Something, Somewhere, Sometime" would definitely be a featured track on the potential mix (although truth be told, I recently put the track on a song for a boy I currently like, without any context other than the fact that it's a dang pretty song). Honesty like "If I've wounded you, I'm sorry. I had good intentions", makes the track a perfect apology for not liking someone that likes you, no matter how hard you try and the fact that the song is so well suited for such a task makes me want to go through with making the "Wow, I Was Kind Of A Bad Girlfriend." mix. Of course, the fact that "Good Time" by Lightning Love ("I'm too young not to mess around"?) and "Don't Think Twice, It's Alright" by Bob Dylan ("You kinda wasted my precious time"?) would also be on said mix prevents me from actually following through with any pipe dreams of a "break up mix" because I'm only human and I do like to get out of relationships with a slight amount of dignity intact. But honestly, people do make cds when they have crushes on people! Why don't they make cds when they stop having crushes on people?

Oh. Right. Probably because that's mean.

Regardless, none of the above sentiments diminish any of the beauty of Daniel Martin Moore and Ben Sollee's collaboration. If you need further proof, check out the following video of the fellas performing the above song live at Grimey's.

And what would a Hot Half Life post be without a link to another amazing Daytrotter session? Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore's session, featuring absolutely gorgeous versions of album tracks "Dear Companion" and "Try" , can be found here and solo sessions from back in the proverbial day are also up on Daytrotter. Moore's can be found here and Moore's is here.

The duo is touring sporadically and hopefully more dates (particularly Midwestern dates) will be added soon because they're definitely at the top of my "Artists I Need To See Live Right Now" list. Check out Daniel Martin Moore's site for more details.

Wait. They don't love you like I love you.

2010-05-01T15:11:00.009-05:00

I had a conversation in the semi-recent past with a fellow music blogger about how all songs boil down to being about one of two things: Girls or drugs. Well, "love or drugs" might be more accurate. Regardless, in the months between then in now, I've noticed just how true that is. Sure, there are songs about politics, there are songs about working dead end jobs and harboring pipe dreams of living out a rock and roll fantasy, but the vast majority of songs are either about love. Or drugs. And sometimes, songs are even about both.

But drugs aren't important and we're not here to discuss who does what in their extracurricular time. Instead, we're here to talk about matters of the heart. Yes, again. Apparently, your favorite sarcastic and baggage-ridden blogger has become quite the sap recently, writing blogs about and making mixes of love songs but if I bet you that whatever song you're listening to right now is about love, chances are, I'd be at least half right. Because it's all about girls or drugs.

Maybe it's the fact that such a thing was pointed out to me or maybe it's the fact that I've got a number of weddings in the forthcoming months to prep for but I've been hearing the overtones of love just about everywhere I go. Mix that with my penchant for cover songs and these next two songs are right up my alley:

I think we can all agree that a few years back, when MTV still had "Music" in the title and when the garage rock revival of the early 2000's was at it's peak, Brooklyn trio Yeah Yeah Yeahs' song "Maps" got incredibly overplayed. I was lucky enough to be introduced to the track before radio got it's dirty mitts all over it, having seen Yeah Yeah Yeahs open for The Liars the year prior to their debut album's release. When I first heard "Maps", I think I had the same reaction that most people did: Holy shit, I thought, that is one beautiful love song. It was a shame how overused the song became in such a short span of time but now that that's faded, what we've got left is one of the more gorgeous tracks of our generation. Who that saw Yeah Yeah Yeahs first national tour before Fever To Tell's release would have thought that the same girl that growled and caterwauled whilst pouring beer all over her lithe body would be composing such tender, revealing, and candid ballads?

Arcade Fire is a band that I've never paid enough attention to but when I do give them the time of day, I'm always pleasantly surprised and their cover "Maps" is nothing short of lovely. If there's one thing I love just as much as cover songs, it's handclaps. There aren't any handclaps to be found here but if there's one other thing I love just as much as cover songs and handclaps, it's duets. I do have quite the lady crush on Yeah Yeah Yeahs frontbabe Karen O. and I'd never want to blaspheme about her but the fact of the matter is that Win Butler and company may have given the sassy and brilliant fashion trainwreck a run for her money with their melodic and understated, vocally driven take on the track.

Arcade Fire - Maps

There are certain musicians that I sort of hero worship. David Bazan is an obvious one and Tim Kasher of Curisve has nothing less than my complete adoration. Joining their ranks is the politically driven punk rocker from my mom's hometown, South Bend, Indiana, Ted Leo. To be honest, Ted Leo hasn't really done it for me in a while because his overt liberalism has started to feel more like preaching than him sharing his opinion but after producing such affecting songs as "Counting Down The Hours" and "Me and Mia" (Both of which rank on my mythical Top 100 Best Songs Of Ever Forever list), I can't not love the man. Usually, Leo can be found with his backing band, The Pharmacists, performing electrified sets that are more often than not peppered with at least one cover. My personal favorite amongst these covers that Leo does so well? A completely not-ironic take on Kelly Clarkson's "Since U Been Gone" with a bridge that turns into Yeah Yeah Yeah's "Maps". Below, you can hear or see (or both!) Leo performing the song flawlessly, solo and acoustic. Does it get any better than this? If it does, I've yet to figure it out.

Ted Leo - Since U Been Gone/Maps

Straight Deja Vu-in'.

2010-04-30T01:42:00.005-05:00

Edited to add: Yes, people, I know Kevin Devine's newly released "Ballad of St. Fred" is a mashed up cover of Fred Durst songs. (Thus the actual meaning behind the blog title) You don't need to tell me. I thought it painfully obvious to write a blog about how hilarious yet actually good the track was so I decided to write this instead. But no one seems to understand that I was trying to be funny. Blogging FAIL.

According to Kevin Devine, his latest track, "The Ballad of St. Fred", is an experiment of sorts. As Mr. Devine didn't elaborate, I'm not entirely sure what type of experiment it's supposed to be but not fifteen seconds into my first listen of the song, I felt an incredibly strong sense of exaclty what the title of this blog implies because to me, the four-point-five minute track is incredibly reminiscent of the work of my hero, Elliott Smith.

Available for free download over at ilike, the lyrically melancholy, understated track finds the prettiness of Devine's voice reduced as his layered vocals remain for the majority of the song at a strained whisper. Perhaps after repeated listens, more of Devine's sound will shine through but to me, save "All Of Everything Erased", the opening track of his last full length, last year's Brother's Blood, the song would sound completely in step with Smith's comprehensive and near flawless back catalog, save the song's only misstep of a backing track of snaps. (Nothing against snaps - I like them alright but they just don't work for me here.) That isn't to say that the song sounds like a "rip off" of anything Smith had done. I've heard many artists try to blatantly imitate Elliott Smith and the results are usually unlistenably derivative. To me, Devine pays homage to Smith in a very real way that is completely his own while showing the utmost respect for what Smith accomplished in his career. That's probably the biggest compliment I can pay to someone and believe me, I am feeling incredibly foolish for missing the house show Devine played not an hour away from my apartment earlier in the month. (In my defense, the alternator in my car died and I wasn't able to get it fixed in time so it's totally not my fault!)

Showcasing Devine's increasingly strong song writing against hushed instrumentation that shows off some incredibly talented guitar playing, I've long been of the opinion that Kevin Devine shines the most when he lets his folk influences shine through and while there's no official word from K.D. himself whether or not he'll still be accompanied by the Goddamn Band on his forthcoming release, if "The Ballad of St. Fred" and a song I've nothing short of fallen head over heels in love with, "You Wouldn't Have To Ask", are any indication, it looks like a near-acoustic Devine album is a better possibility now than it has been since the release of his solo debut, Circle Gets The Square.

Later this spring, Devine will surely be testing out his new tracks as he hits the road opening for Thrice with other Hot Half favorites, Bad Veins, making for what's going to be a pretty dang surreal tour for this roving reporter.

Detroit Rock City: OK Go at the Magic Stick

2010-04-27T16:05:00.009-05:00

When this here blogger was a young, fresh faced thing, nearly ten years ago, she found herself at one of the finest venues in Detroit, The Magic Stick, a pool bar-slash-concert hall located above the Majestic Theater's Garden Bowl, to see a pre-O.C.-theme-song Phantom Planet (with Jason Schwartzman in tow). Opening for the once-relevant California quartet was a band from Chicago that hadn't yet cut their debut LP but it wasn't ten minutes into their set that I realized their penchant for pop hooks and clever, wordy lyrics made them something quite irresistible and special. I bought their demo, turned a number of my friends on to the edgy, saccharine, catchiness, and rocked the tee shirt I picked up at the merch booth with pride. That band? It was totally Ok Go.

In the years between then and now, my like to the indie power poppers had gone by the wayside. I saw the viral videos, I enjoyed the hook-ladden choruses of their singles when they made appearances in movies or on mixtapes, but I didn't go out of my way to peruse an interest in Ok Go. What that translates to is "Amber was being too much of a stuck up indie snob to like anything that wasn't sad and acoustic". And I was missing out.

I didn't have much of an interest in repeating me "Ok Go at the Magic Stick" experience for anything other than the sake of nostalgia but my photographer pal Sarah wanted to go so, hey, I figured, why not? It would be trippy after all to repeat one of my first concert going experiences although, to be honest, I think if Phantom Planet had been in tow this time around, they'd be the openers.

Somewhat ironically, Sarah had to bail but I forged ahead, with a Heidi in tow, and made my way to the Magic Stick, parking in my usual "down the street" spot and witnessing something I'd never witnessed outside of Chicago: An actual line to get into the venue. And not just any line, but a line that went far down the street and ended up curling around the block. Color me shocked - If any concert on my upcoming calendar was going to have a line, I was certain it would have been The Hold Steady, not Ok Go. The anticipation of the teens and the twenty somethings (and that one 8 year old boy rocking an Ok Go shirt who seemed to be at his first concert - That's why I love all ages shows, kids.) was just a sign of things to come.

The band took the stage and before the end of the first song, the crowd was showered in the first of many rounds of confetti, making it clear to even the most skeptic of indie kids that this show was not a place for self-seriousness. Ok Go was going to make you dance and make you smile and they weren't going to feel sorry about it as they plowed through the type of set that most musicians don't have the gusto to pull off. If you imagine getting punched pleasantly in the gut repeatedly by the catchiest of catchy songs at the best super-fun-time New Year's eve party you can imagine, you might have an idea of how awesome Ok Go's set was. Only it wasn't New Year's! I just associate that holiday with confetti. What else do I associate with New Year's? Making out with a drink in your hand and barely remembering the whole thing come morning. But enough about me.

Sparing no expense in theatrics, the band busted out fur covered guitars with lasers and suit jackets that lit up, poking fun at the band's own internet fame with a stream of emoticons as well as an O, a K, a G, and another O, but the appeal wasn't only in kitsch, although the band clearly does excel at such. Lead singer Damian Kulash bantered on stage like an engaging pro, led the packed Detroit crowd in a sing along of latest viral phenom "This Too Shall Pass", and even took to the crowd with his acoustic guitar, singing a heartwrenchingly perfect rendition of Of The Blue Colored Sky's shockingly beautiful "Last Leaf".

Ok Go - Last Leaf

I have this habit of associating nearly every song I hear with a potential themed mix cd. If I were to compose a cd whose theme was loosely "I love you and even though we can't be together right now, I will wait for you so we can hold each other someday" (Yeah, talk about some cliche-indie-flick nonsense right there. Naturally, that self-referentially over dramatic "Garden State" crap is right up my alley.), "Last Leaf" would have a featured spot. Not that I cried while listening to it the other night or anything. Okay, honestly, I totally did cry while listening to it. I can't help it, it's affecting, and I can sort of relate to it's sentiments at the moment. What did I tell you? My life's some Focus Features bullshit.

Playing a perfectly pop mix of songs off their three albums, Ok Go didn't spare the "hits" even though I'm sure their sick of playing "Here It Goes Again", even busting out songs I still remembered after after nearly ten years like "Don't Ask Me" and the band's first "hit", "Get Over It" but the highlights of the set for me were my "circa six years ago" jam "The Fix Is In" (complete with the lyric about Boston changed to Detroit, of course), a clever version of the debut album standout "What To Do" played entirely on - No joke - handbells and a searing cover of the Pixies "Debaser".

Ok Go - What To Do

To say Ok Go impressed is an understatement. There's nothing I love more, after seeing literally hundreds of bored bands with a severe lack in stage presence, than a man who knows how to own the stage, who clearly loves what he does. After seeing Ok Go's passion and adoration for their finely crafted songs, frontman Kulash joins the Hot Half Awesome Concert Hall of Fame with Cursive's engaging singer Tim Kasher and a true bucket of joy, Josh Ritter.

The band's currently on a eight week tour across the country and will surely be hitting your area before the summer's over. I can't endorse the purchase of a ticket to see these fellas enough. If you like awesome things, you'll love Ok Go live. But if you can't, for some ungodly reason, shell out the $15 to support the little indie band that could, check out Ok Go's official site for details on this Thursday's live streaming concert to see the spectacle for yourself.

Photos by Heidi Gharbeiah for The Hot Half Life.

She asks "Are you cursed?" He says "I think that I'm cured."

2010-04-26T01:43:00.011-05:00

I'm not afraid of a lot of things. Spiders? Nope. The dark? Well, a little. But not that much. Storms? Not really. I'm not afraid of death, either. But one thing that has always made my insides feel uncomfortably tight is love. I understand the way my brain works and I know why I'm afraid of love but this isn't livejournal so I won't delve into it. When I was little, I never daydreamed of getting married and I didn't date until far after high school and, to be honest, I didn't even have my first boyfriend until recently. I never longed for a prince charming or desperately wondered what it would be like to be held by someone who made me feel like no one ever has before: Whole.

It's natural as a human, I think, to feel slightly fragmented. And yeah, I do think there's someone in the world that will make me feel less so but nothing has ever made me long for that sensation of wholeness except for the songs of Josh Ritter.

It's a combination of the tenderness in his voice, the gentle intricacies of his folk guitar chord progressions, and the fact that he is an incredible lyricist. All of those things combined make him frighteningly good. Good enough, in fact, to make this heart-hardened career gal pause, close her eyes, and wonder what it would be like to be in the sort of love that Ritter sings about on more than a few occasions.

After the career making beauty of Ritter's last cd, The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter, I felt a mixture of severe anticipation and complete trepidation for his newest effort, So Runs The World Away. Where, after all, could Ritter go after such a triumphant last LP? Particularly, where could he go, as a storyteller, that he hadn't already valiantly conquered on The Historical Conquests?

I've heard a lot of love songs and there are a few that are near and dear me. "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea" by Neutral Milk Hotel, and "The Gambler" by fun. (Take note, potential suitors: If the unthinkable happens and for some ungodly reason I do get married, I am dancing to that song at my wedding. So if aren't affected by that tune, you need not apply to become Mr. Valentine.) are just a couple favorites, but none of them are remotely as moving as Ritter's "The Temptation of Adam", a song that in just a few minutes manages to tell the detailed story of Adam and Marie, two nuclear scientists who are engineering a bomb that could bring about the end of the world. From inside their bunker, they fall in love, and from the opening line, from Adam's perspective, of "If this was the cold war, we could keep each other warm", I found myself incredibly infatuated with the type of love Josh was singing about, the type of love I had never even got close to experiencing, which is also the type of love that I'd never been particularly interested in experiencing, until Ritter managed to turn me into a sap with his acoustic guitar and a few crushingly beautiful lines about the fairy tale kind of adoration that I didn't think existed in real life.

I'd heard bits and pieces of Ritter's So Runs The World Away and while it was all just as stellar as the catchiest bits of The Historical Conquests, none of it came close to being as heart wrenchingly affecting as "The Temptation of Adam". That is, until I heard the third track on the May release, "The Curse".

It's beauty is undeniable, as was noted by both myself and my stepmom, an avid Ritter fan thanks to yours truly. She and I were sitting in her living room when I started playing the album and not one minute into "The Curse", Laura turned to me and said "Oh, I like this." I agreed, feeling the same tightening in my chest that "The Temptation of Adam" had stirred so many times before. After repeated listenings, I began to take in the lyrics and found something as pleasantly surprising as it was hopelessly romantic. The song is a story, rich with parallels to being in love with a traveling musician, about a mummy, awoken from his enchanted sleep when his tomb is excavated. He falls in love with the archeologist who finds him in a sort of reverse take on Sleeping Beauty, but of course, he doesn't age, he doesn't change, and his lover grows old and eventually dies. It's sad but it's real and the bittersweetness of it all is classic Ritter for you: He makes you fall in love and then breaks your heart within a five minute time span.

Josh Ritter - The Curse

I haven't had the time to digest all of Ritter's forthcoming album. It's a shame and it's something I've been meaning to do but every time I hear "The Curse", I get stuck. Just as beautiful as, if not more than, "The Temptation of Adam", Josh Ritter has cemented himself as my favorite songwriter of this generation. I'm an optimist but I've never been a romantic but Ritter's songs excavate a sort of longing buried deep under the fear, ruthlessness, and sarcasm that keep me from getting close to people.

It's unsurprising that longtime friends of The Hot Half Life, Daytrotter, have produced an amazing session with Josh Ritter and really, it's something you need to hear, not only because both songs that I lavishly applauded here are a part of it but also because of Ritter's amazing cover of "Moon River", a Hot Half favorite for many years, up there with "Somewhere Over The Rainbow". Yeah, I'm a sucker. But if it makes me lame to still harbor fantasies of being swept away to Oz and don some ruby slippers, well then I don't want to be cool.

Detroit Rock City Part One: Miniature Tigers @ The Majestic Cafe

2010-04-21T15:38:00.009-05:00

Well, blog, it's been a while. I could go on a soliloquy regarding what this here gal has been doing with her Hot Half Life over the past month or so but instead, I think I'll just plow right into things.

As you may gather from the title of this particular entry, I appear to be back in my hometown, Detroit, Michigan for the time being. Upon my return, I may have got kinda tipsy and teary, going on and on about how much I love this city. It's funny, Detroit never felt remotely like "home" to me growing up. It felt more like an unfortunate, sad locale that I had the terrible luck of being born into it. However, after spending a good couple years in Chicago and Cincinnati before my return, trying desperately to find my place in the world, returning to the Motor City (or "Hockeytown", if you will) felt more natural than it ever had in my 20 year tenure as a Michigander. It's something about the skyline of the city as seen from downtown Hamtramck, the sight of the DIA or the Science Center as you get off the freeway, and, of course, the grungy, real, unpretentious music scene that I grew up with. This is my home. You can take the girl out of Detroit but no matter what, the moment a White Stripes tune comes on the ol' iPod shuffle, her roots shine through.

Home, however, is really where "the heart is". Yeah, yeah, it's cliche and it's kind of lame to say it but it's cliche for a reason: Because it's true. Right now, a good piece of my heart is in this awful mitten shaped state but I doubt it'll always be like that. A good portion of this blog has dealt with those terrible things called "emotions" and how "feelings" affect me. One day, hopefully soon, I'm gonna find where my heart really is. And I'll go there. Hopefully with a good paying writing job in tow. But until then, I'm back in Detroit, doing what I do best: Rocking and rolling.

Miniature Tigers aren't exactly a "Detroit" band. In fact, they aren't a "Detroit" band at all. They're a Phoenix-L.A.-New-York hybrid of sunny pop melodies and indie sensibilities and this blog is no stranger to the foursome. First seeing them all the way back in the beginning of 2009 on the Kevin Devine Brother's Blood Tour and seeing them since with fun. and later solo, Mini T's have quickly risen to the ranks of one of the few bands I get genuinely excited for when they hit the Midwest. They're not "Detroit" by any means but seeing as I popped my Detroit-concert-re-virginized-cherry at the Majestic Cafe seeing them, I figure this review is as good as any to start off my new series of show reviews around the great state of Michigan.

The first time I saw Miniature Tigers, I had never heard them and was taken aback by the pure catchiness and dancability of their tunes. They have an immediate appeal that's hard to deny and their songs don't tire after repeated listenings. However, the one thing that was severely lacking live was lead singer Charlie Brand's stage presence. Lackadaisical and occasionally stiff, Brand's lack of enthusiasm didn't hinder the band (the songs were still damn good) but it certainly didn't help with their appeal. In the past year, though, I've seen the Tigers somewhere around 7 times and with each performance, Brand has gotten more confident, more natural, and all around more likable. How can I fella wearing a vintage sweater covered in teddy bears not be likable, after all? (Side note: That really is a damn fine sweater. Many, myself and my old roommate included, have offered to take it off of his hands to no avail. I can say with confidence that anyone who wears that sweater probably gets much attractive ladies.) Brand's upwards trajectory of awesome seems to have culminated with the April 13th Majestic Cafe performance when Charlie took his mic into the crowd and danced with the audience during one of the band's new songs, off the forthcoming LP Fortress. I've said before that nothing builds likability more than audience interaction and I stand by that. If I hadn't been won over by the Tigers charm about a year ago, this performance would have certainly sealed the deal.

Playing a few catchy favorites off debut LP Tell It To The Volcano, including the title track and the mood-brightening "Cannibal Queen", the band's set relied mostly on new material and while it wasn't my first time hearing songs destined to become sing-alongs after Fortress is released in July, it was definitely the most enjoyable. Hearing the progression of songs like "Coyote Enchantment" had perhaps been the coolest thing about seeing Miniature Tigers so many times.

The new material seems slightly less organic, as you can hear in the aforementioned "Coyote Enchantment", snagged off every blogger's best friend, youtube, below, and while it's a common argument here in Hot Half Headquarters that organic is better, Miniature Tigers sound seems to have progressed while staying true to it's origins, become something bigger than before without changing the Tigers overall sound, making the new material just as pristine and all-around fun as every track off the band's debut.

Something also has to be said for the fact that the band's lineup, after seeing more than a few shakeups since Miniature Tigers inception, has evolved into something just about perfect. Original Tigers Brand and Rick Schaier (also of the fantastic Alvin Band) have been joined by Algernon Quashie and Alex Gerber to create not only an amazing lineup but an all around amazing group of guys. You'd be hard pressed to find a sweeter, funnier foursome in indie rock and niceness goes a long way. I'm willing to bet everyone that got to brush shoulders with the band during their brief Detroit tenure is going to remember them for quite a while as amazing fellas that deserve your $8 for a concert ticket next time they make the Midwest rounds.

It seems like Fortress is going to take the Tigers to a new level, moving them more to towards the indie mainstream and into the collective consciousness of every hip kid in Detroit, Northside, Logan Square, and, you know, all those hipster caches outside of the Midwest.

Photos by Regina Prager and Sarah Kelly for The Hot Half Life.

You Can't Hold The Hand of A Rock N' Roll Man: Part 1.

2010-03-03T06:27:00.007-06:00

So word on the street is that I’m overly sensitive. If you asked any of my peers to confirm this fact, they’d probably laugh and say something to the extent of “Amber? Are you serious? That girl doesn’t have emotions. I’m pretty sure she plugs into the wall like a robot at night...” So when I say “Word on the street is that I’m overly sensitive”, what I mean to say is “Here’s an admission: I’m a lot more sensitive than I let on.”

Without giving too much away, there was a confluence of events in my life recently that I will list for you with handy bullet points so you, dear reader, can keep easy track.

I lost a vast majority of the passion for what I do. Going to concerts hasn’t been fun for a while. Nor has getting press releases, hearing albums before they came out. To say I got jaded would be an understatement.
I got sick. Incredibly sick. I guess a life lesson for you all is to not left three month long colds go untreated because the results go something like this: Sniffles, sinus infection, plugged up ears, coughing up icky stuff, walking pneumonia. Good news is that after a week of antibiotic, I craved bacon tonight. So much for vegetarianism? But my body desiring protein is always a sign of Get-Better-dom.
I also got a major big time crush on a fellow. He seemed to be a lot of things I wanted right now in life and things went from “Oh, this guy’s handsome.” to “Holy shit, are we kissing?” to “Did he really just invite me to visit him in Tennessee?” within a few days. I could pour out my heart, directly quote texts and e-mails, but what it comes down to is that it didn’t work out and he wasn’t worth my time, let alone the gas money it took to get from Cincinnati to Nashville. Why this hit me as hard as it did is because I don’t remember the last time that I let someone get to know me or, rather, that overly sensitive version of me I mentioned earlier. Usually, I’m heart-hardened, a real life version of Clementine Kruzcynski without the mood swings (or, more honestly, a less rehabby version of Kim in Rachel Getting Married), who scoffs at people who say things like “I’ve never fallen for someone so hard before!” or “I think they’re... The one.” To quote my old roommate, Sara, “Amber wouldn’t choose a guy over a can of beer.” And despite how often I drink it, I don’t even like beer that much. I actually, for the first time possibly ever, let my guard down with a boy and let him get to know the “nice”, “genuine”, “heartfelt” Amber underneath the sarcastic and apathetic exterior... And it didn’t work out. Not even a little. It’s really probably just life trying to tell me that I need to stop getting involved with guys I meet at the bar. Especially if I’ve been “pregaming” which is really just a nice way of saying “I was wasted when I showed up.”
Take all of the above and add in a major tiff with my best friend and you’ve got a doozy of a week for your Hot Half Life showrunner.

And to top it all off, there wasn’t even a song I could relate to. Sure, there were lyrics (Oh, Jesse Lacey of Brand New, why is your over-dramatacism so apt for every break up I go through? Additional shout outs go to his dynamic BFF duo of Andy Hull and Kevin Devine, the latter of which who’s new song I should probably keep my mouth shut about and just give it’s own post to.) Reverse the gender roles found in the lyrics Brand New’s bratty anthem “Jude Law and a Semester Abroad (“I hope the next boy that you kiss has something terribly contagious on his lips”) and you have a sentiment I’m not vindictive enough for but appreciate anyhow. Plus, let’s face it, what with that “walking pneumonia” nonsense, I was the girl with something terribly contagious on her lips. I’d call and tell him to start a regimen of vitamin C now but considering the supreme brush off I received from him after we slept together... I highly doubt he’d respond.

Anyhow, point is that whenever I don’t have a song in my life, I feel sort of displaced. Like something important to me has been misplaced and no matter how desperately I look for it, I can't find it. For some reason, I just need other people’s words to confirm that I’m not as big of a singular freak as I imagine myself to be and without that to rely on, I just feel off.

In my phlegm ridden downtime recently, however, I’ve been falling in love with music all over again. Not only is it refreshing from a professional standp point as I've been finding a whole stream of musicians I want to interview but it’s also refreshing on a personal level because it's just cathartic. From the folk noir beauty of Ben Sollee & Daniel Martin Moore to the sassy, druggy stylings of long time favorites The Hold Steady, I’ve found my fair share of songs to lean on and discovered some new artists in the process. (But more on those folks later.)

Sure, I could make a mix CD of all these songs and let that be the end of it but wouldn’t it be more fun to post about each song, running a gamut of emotions from hurt to angry to rebound-y and sexy, detailing why it is I relate to each sentiment so much?

Of course it would!

Thus wordily commences Amber’s first mix of 2010. The title? I’m wrestling between “There’s Always Other Boys and You Can Make Them Like You” and “You Can’t Hold The Hand of a Rock N’ Roll Man”, despite the latter song not appearing on said mix. Let’s face it: With my predilection for dating males in my line of work, Okkervil River’s truism about cuddling men in bands is just as apt as it is witty. (Editor's note: As you can see from the title of this entry, I have settled on the Okkervil River reference. What can I say? I'm a sucker for Will Sheff and any chance I get to reference, you know, anything about him, I'll gladly take.)

The first song to be inducted was Metric’s “Gimme Sympathy”. Not a new song by any means but I’ve said it before and it’s a statement I’ll reiterate here: If I had a talent at writing lyrics that perfectly depicted my personality, I would write songs like Emily Haines of Metric. At once self-deprecating and affecting, Haines is one of the few female songwriters I don’t find grating or pathetic and let’s face it, girl’s a looker and that always helps. (Although I feel the need to point out that she's a hundred times more adorable with dark hair but I'm a bit biased.)

“Gimme Sympathy” was a song I had adored from the first listen of Fantasies, Metric’s latest effort, finding it to be one of the album’s stand out tracks despite the fact that, apparently, name checking the Beatles and the Rolling Stones multiple times in the same song struck many as tacky. You may remember, however, that the track made my top twelve tracks of the year compilation from a couple months back. Or you may not remember that. No big deal, I’m just sayin’ it happened is all.

Metric - Gimme Sympathy (Acoustic)

Despite my like for the track, it was never something I particularly lyrically appreciated despite thinking it was actually cheeky and clever as opposed to tacky but it was certainly nothing I related to until the past week.

From the opening sentiments of being alarmingly honest at the start of a fledgling relationship to the admission of things happening at a crazy fast pace and the pre-choral notion of being “so close to something better left unknown”, “Gimme Sympathy” was the first song as of late that struck me as being something to relate to. I could write paragraphs into each line, specifying why each relates to my life (because each does), and saying what each means to me personally but it’s not important to go into details. Instead, I’ll remember someday all the chances I took.

Sure those chances didn't pay off in the way I'd figured they would as things didn’t work out in my favor but it doesn’t matter. Here’s where, normally, I’d go into a soliloquy about what I learned and how I’ve grown from the experience but that disposition, I suppose, are best saved for the wrap up post of the entire mix itself. But, for the record, I did learn and grow. So here's to getting the brush off. I hear tell I was out of his league anyhow. (Editor's note: I hear that from an ex-fella who went to high school with said mix inspiring Nashvillian so that does come from a biased source but regardless. It's nice to hear.)

Happy 100th Post, Hot Half Life!

2010-02-08T12:17:00.004-06:00

Well, it appears The Hot Half Life has finally reached it's blog-centennial and man, what a crazy hundred posts it's been. From blogging about how a song affects me emotionally, to album reviews, to interviews, to news, this blog's been a crazy trip for me. Considering this blog's been, well, sadly vacant for the past two weeks and was sporadically updated throughout January, it's no secret that the majority of my efforts are being directed elsewhere - There's TRACER, for one, where my autumn conversation with Langhorne Slim now lives, and Boil It First, where I actively rant about various things that make me less-than-pleased. And what's a day in my life without freelancing to every place possible, keeping me so busy that I occasionally feel like I'm on the brink of a professional nervous breakdown? Nothing! Hey, so long as my nervous breakdown doesn't interfere with my Lost viewing, I'm fine.

But enough about me, let's talk about Josh Ritter.

The Hot Half Life is no stranger to Ritter, a gentleman who's folk narratives I wasn't quite fond of at first but, after seeing him live, found myself madly in love with. No one spins a tale lyrically like Ritter. In the time between warming up to Josh and now, I've turned 4 friends into Ritter superfans, made 8 "Introduction to Josh Ritter" mixes, and had the pleasure of hearing Philadelphia's Koji cover Ritter's "To The Dogs Or Whoever". I've also drunkenly spun that song at more than a few Cincy dance parties although, let's face it, Ritter's alt-country leanings aren't always dance party friendly, while slurring my way through a speech about how great Ritter and his band are. True story.

Now, Ritter returns to the scene with a new album and a new tour (Which sadly doesn't bring him Cincinnati way but does bring him to Chicago's Vic and, hey, let's face it, I'm long overdue to go visit my Illinois people so I do believe a road trip is in order). Today, Ritter put the first track from the forthcoming So Runs The World Away, "Change of Time".

Josh Ritter - Change of Time

"Change of Time" doesn't sound completely different from what we've heard previously from Josh Ritter, which by no means is a bad thing. The song has a sense of familiarity at the start, both musically and lyrically, that makes me feel as if the track would sound right at home on previous efforts The Animal Years or The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter. Somewhere around the two and a half minute mark, however, the song progresses - Turning dreamy and searing at once and the combination proves to be unforgettable, building upon the already high anticipation for Ritter's forthcoming album and making the excitement for the record palpable. I know it's the release I'm most looking forward to of 2010, by far.

Perhaps the loveliest part of "Change of Time" comes at the very end, when all the instruments cut out to expose the beauty and simplicity in Ritter's voice. Sure, the moment only lasts for a second but that second is enough to stick with you, long after listening, and plant a seed of desperation in your head that makes you long to hear the song again.

So Runs The World Away comes out May 4th and Ritter will be hitting the Midwest for a brief stint shortly thereafter.

Taking Cincinnati By Storm... Here's To The Future!

2010-01-29T01:48:00.000-06:00

I could rattle off a few dozen things I'm looking forward to in the coming months in Cincinnati, both in my personal life and in my professional life.

I'm looking forward to becoming less of a transient adult-failure and more of a real adult, settling into my new home in Northside and acquiring some, you know, couches and stuff. I'm looking forward to freelancing up a storm, writing about anything and everything to anyone that'll have me. I'm looking forward to watching local darlings like You, You're Awesome and The Guitars release full length albums and grow in fame, helping put Cincinnati on the map the way it deserves to be put on the map. I'm looking forward to MPMF. Dance MF. More Wednesday Bingo nights at my favorite bar, Mayday. I'm looking forward to eating more Skyline. And I'm really looking forward to MusicNOW.

MusicNOW is an amazing Cincinnati music fest that spans three days and has, in the past, featured the likes of My Brightest Diamond, Grizzly Bear, Andrew Bird (from my old hood!), and Sufjan Stevens (from my even older hood!). This year, the lineup is significantly more ambitious, so ambitious that MusicNOW and Cincinnati actually got mentioned on the behemoth that is Pitchfork. If you want to pause for a moment and marvel at that, feel free. I know I did.

St. Vincent, Joanna Newsom, and Bon Iver will be trekking to my hometown and while it's doubtless that Bon Iver will be taking most of the buzz as Justin Vernon's shows under the moniker are sporadic and few since the "indefinite hiatus" he proposed late last year, what I'm here to talk about today is Joanna Newsom and her new album.

One thing Newsom has never seemed to lack is spunk - People said a harpist who sings sort of like a talking cat might could never have a career. Newsom, in turn, released The Milk Eyed Mender to much critical acclaim. People said an album can't consist of five seven-to-seventeen minute long songs. Newsom then released her sophomore disc, Ys, comprised of just that. People then said that just because you managed to successfully pull off a disc as wacky and conceptual as Ys doesn't mean you should press your luck and release a triple album for your third release. Naturally, Newsom is doing just that.

Before she hits Cincy for MusicNOW, Newsom will release Have One On Me, a three disc album. The first track, "'81", is now available for your listening pleasure. Here's where I would say "or displeasure" but to be quite honest, Newsom's grown as a vocalist quite a bit. Gone is the girl who screeched and wailed her way through the alarmingly gorgeous "Cassiopeia" and "Swansea". Now, Newsom bears more of a resemblance vocally to Sara Lov or one of the Eisley gals than her former self.

Joanna Newsom - '81

The lyrics are still lovely, ethereal, and dreamy but the fact of the matter is that I miss the (relatively) simple Joanna Newsom. The Joanna Newsom that had a warbling, untrained voice. The Joanna Newsom that dated and collaborated with Bill Callahan of Smog and wasn't pictured on gossip sites, hand in hand with Andy Samberg. (Can we just pause for a second and mention how strange it is that Newsom and Natalie Portman traded boyfriends with Devendra Banhart and Samberg? Strange.) I miss the Joanna Newsom that wrote three minute songs and mentioned Narnia in her lyrics. The Joanna Newsom that didn't wear couture and certainly didn't own any Chanel. The Joanna Newsom that had her hair in messy braids in press photos and wore tee shirts and looked like less of an elfin supermodel and more of a strange, hipster girl I'd encounter at my aforementioned favorite bar, Mayday, ordering a vegan hot dog on a pretzel bun. (Yep, bars in Cincinnati have vegan dogs. And hot dogs. And brat dogs. On pretzel buns. Why aren't you living here yet?!) Or quite honestly, it's simply possible that I miss her bangs. I am, after all, quite a bang connoisseur and am heavily considering starting a feature on my blog that admires beautiful female musician's stellar bangs.

Regardless, I'm still fond of Miss Newsom and I find her to be charming and lovely. Ys was a great record in my opinion. For a very long time, much to my friend's dismay, it was lodged in my CD player as I had dubbed it "perfect driving music". The album had some truly wonderful moments but some of the best parts seemed to be buried underneath a concept that wasn't always fully in grasp. I maintain that I think I would have liked both "Only Skin" and the brief interlude that's found inside it of "Be A Woman" better as separate, shorter songs but I also maintain that "Cosmia" is a gorgeous, if overarching, mammoth of a devastatingly sad track and Newsom's lyrics do really get the chance to shine when less constraints are given.

That being said, a triple album is still a bit much. There's ambition and then there's ambition. And Joanna Newsom seems to have the latter.

EP Review: Kevin Devine and Manchester Orchestra: "I Could Be The Only One".

2010-01-28T00:41:00.004-06:00

I heard about the split Kevin Devine/Manchester Orchestra EP quite a few months back, from Mister Devine during an interview that will be hitting TRACER Magazine shortly. To be completely honest, while the prospect of a new tune by Kevin (Especially a cover, as that, in my opinion, is one of his strongest points) was exciting, I wasn't anticipating the release as eagerly as one might think and here's a breakdown of why:

I'm just not crazy about Manchester Orchestra. While their song "I Can Feel A Hot One" remains one of my favorite songs of '09, when the subject of Manchester comes up, I often find myself perfecting the most well known hipster mating call of "The first album was better!" or the even more pretentiously obscure hipster mating call of "The acoustic side project is better!" Both of those opinions are not only painfully, stereotypically "hip" of me but they're also true. While the vast majority of the songs off Like A Virgin Losing a Child made me feel empassioned, painting vibrant pictures of what my own life could be like or simply daydreams of what I wanted out of life, a mere two songs from Manchester's sophomore effort were anything more than vaguely memorable and the beauty of "I Can Feel A Hot One" just doesn't make up for the lackluster rest of the record.

That's just my opinion, don't hold it against me, but that very opinion was the reason that I wasn't exactly thrilled to hear Manchester Orchestra cover a song I love by an artist I sort of adore or hear Kevin Devine cover a song I don't like by a band I feel lukewarmly about. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to hear both of these songs. I just wasn't super excited to. Both the tracks that compose the cleverly titled I Could Be The Only One, however, are far more solid than I expected, each one reinventing the original song to turn it on it's side, into something unexpected and remarkably beautiful.

If you'd asked me what I thought Manchester Orchestra's version of "I Could Be With Anyone" would sound like, I would say that it would remove the pop ele

ments from the song, add layers of noise and fuzz, and utilize lead singer Andy Hull's occasional penchant for yelling to turn the song into a raucous track that wouldn't sound out of place on Mean Everything To Nothing, the band's latest release. I couldn't have been more off base with that surmisation, however, as Manchester Orchestra takes the upbeat, tongue-in-cheek pop of the original and instead of adding noise, takes it away. Capitolizing on the beauty of Andy Hull's voice, the song is turned into a deceptively sensitive sounding ballad and when Hull sings that he's not saying that his actions are right, you believe his sincerity and feel bad for him, instead of the girls that he's singing about using. Where Kevin's version of the song makes me feel strangely empowered (or at least less ashamed about my commitment-phobia), Manchester Orchestra's makes me, oddly enough, want to cuddle Andy Hull and tell him that it'll be okay because he and I can date and everything will be perfect. The only fault in the loveliness of the song, perhaps, is the grating and off key "la's" that compose the bridge.

The second and final track on I Could Be The Only One features Kevin Devine giving a make over to Manchester Orchestra's "The Only One", a noisy bit of caterwauling grunge rock off Mean Everything To Nothing. Much like the band's take on Devine's "I Could Be With Anyone", I had a strong idea in my head of what "The Only One" would sound like and, just like "I Could Be With Anyone", I was completely off base with my thoughts. Sure, "The Only One" is calmed to a slower pace and a softer melody but instead of relying simply of Devine's acoustic guitar, the song is given a vague electronic backbone, one that's not entirely dissimilar to that heard on Devine's version of "I Could Be With Anyone", only much more subdued. Whereas "I Could Be With Anyone" is poppy and dancable, "The Only One" is dreamy and atmospheric and the track, honestly, seems to take more from Broken Social Scene's Kevin Drew than Mister Devine's back catalog. And that's not a bad thing.

Perhaps the EP's most charming moment comes at the beginning of Devine's "The Only One". Hull might sing that he's the only son of a pastor who does the things he does but Devine's father wasn't any pastor so the lyrics are changed to suit the current singer - "I am the only son of an officer," Devine sings. "Who does the things I do."

You might be, Kevin, but please don't let that deter you from continuing to do them. Unless, you know, those things are drugs and hookers. Please stop doing those. It's frowned upon in society and just plain unhealthy.

Stream both songs here and if you've got a spare $1.50, you should probably just shell it out to iTunes here.