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So if you haven't already heard, the hurricane killstorm has wreaked horrible havoc on Austin in the form of increased humidity. Kind of a letdown, really. Not meaning to minimize the awful damage Ike's caused in other parts of the state, but I was looking forward to some stormy weather. Oh well.
So, more about Rock Band. I think I have decided that my artistic destiny would have been to be a back-up singer. When I couldn't hear the vocal track I suuuucked. But once that got turned up sufficiently, I did great. Singing with someone feels completely different than singing alone, even if the someone is a car stereo or a computer. And I much, much prefer singing with someone. I don't think I could ever do karaoke. Well, not unless I was really drunk, and I'd still probably suck at it. Not every artist wants the limelight, I suppose.
Another thing I learned... well, I'd figured this out before but it was confirmed again last night. Lyrics are almost an afterthought for me. I hear the tune, the emotion, the cadence, and just about every other aspect of music before I hear the lyrics. There are songs that I've known and loved for decades that I still don't know all the words to. It's not like I think they're unimportant, it's just not what draws me to a song. I like the Cars because of the sound they have, not because of Ric Ocasek's weird-ass beat poetry (not that I mind it, but it's not was hooked me).
This leads to entertaining discoveries when doing something like Rock Band, along the lines of "is that what they're saying there, no shit?" Radiohead- gosh, they need a hug. Rush- they must have giant, throbbing brains. I think the Grateful Dead must've smoked a lot of weed or something. And you know that lady who did all that wailing in "Gimme Shelter"? Did you know she was wailing "Rape, murder"? I sure didn't. Interesting.
Speaking of singing, we're singing at the FUUCA services tomorrow morning. It's a French piece, and we're doing that extreme death choir thing where we take a fairly complicated piece and work it up in one and a half rehearsals. This is intense, but we seem to always manage to pull it off. I suppose there's less pressure for something like this since if we screw up the French who's going to know? But I still like to do the thing well for its own sake.
Oh yeah, that reminds me of another thing I noticed last night. If I knew the song really well, I performed well. If I sort of knew it, I did poorly. If I didn't know it at all, I did well again. I think I'm a good sight-reader. Not sure how to apply this to life in general, but there you are.
Tonight, Master Pancake takes on Jurassic Park. Tomorrow, church services, the final Dedicant class, and an early Mabon feast with the grove since Gordon and I will be out of town for Mabon proper. I need to pack in there somewhere. We're leaving early Tuesday and coming back the following Monday.
Eric is playing with Legos. Or Lego, if you want to be snotty about it. Nothing else sounds quite like pawing through a large container of Legos. It triggers all sorts of pleasant childhood memories. Me and an unnamed sibling used to make the Captain and Tennille with Legos. I'm serious!
So, more about Rock Band. I think I have decided that my artistic destiny would have been to be a back-up singer. When I couldn't hear the vocal track I suuuucked. But once that got turned up sufficiently, I did great. Singing with someone feels completely different than singing alone, even if the someone is a car stereo or a computer. And I much, much prefer singing with someone. I don't think I could ever do karaoke. Well, not unless I was really drunk, and I'd still probably suck at it. Not every artist wants the limelight, I suppose.
Another thing I learned... well, I'd figured this out before but it was confirmed again last night. Lyrics are almost an afterthought for me. I hear the tune, the emotion, the cadence, and just about every other aspect of music before I hear the lyrics. There are songs that I've known and loved for decades that I still don't know all the words to. It's not like I think they're unimportant, it's just not what draws me to a song. I like the Cars because of the sound they have, not because of Ric Ocasek's weird-ass beat poetry (not that I mind it, but it's not was hooked me).
This leads to entertaining discoveries when doing something like Rock Band, along the lines of "is that what they're saying there, no shit?" Radiohead- gosh, they need a hug. Rush- they must have giant, throbbing brains. I think the Grateful Dead must've smoked a lot of weed or something. And you know that lady who did all that wailing in "Gimme Shelter"? Did you know she was wailing "Rape, murder"? I sure didn't. Interesting.
Speaking of singing, we're singing at the FUUCA services tomorrow morning. It's a French piece, and we're doing that extreme death choir thing where we take a fairly complicated piece and work it up in one and a half rehearsals. This is intense, but we seem to always manage to pull it off. I suppose there's less pressure for something like this since if we screw up the French who's going to know? But I still like to do the thing well for its own sake.
Oh yeah, that reminds me of another thing I noticed last night. If I knew the song really well, I performed well. If I sort of knew it, I did poorly. If I didn't know it at all, I did well again. I think I'm a good sight-reader. Not sure how to apply this to life in general, but there you are.
Tonight, Master Pancake takes on Jurassic Park. Tomorrow, church services, the final Dedicant class, and an early Mabon feast with the grove since Gordon and I will be out of town for Mabon proper. I need to pack in there somewhere. We're leaving early Tuesday and coming back the following Monday.
Eric is playing with Legos. Or Lego, if you want to be snotty about it. Nothing else sounds quite like pawing through a large container of Legos. It triggers all sorts of pleasant childhood memories. Me and an unnamed sibling used to make the Captain and Tennille with Legos. I'm serious!
