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So, if you haven't been paying attention, Grotte got himself an iPod a couple of months back, and he absolutely loves it: slick, compact, impressive. Even the box it came in was a sexy little package, a sort of matte-gray Rubik's Cube, with little plastic dividers and a tiny, tiny sticker on the bottom that says, \Don't Steal Music"" in that wonderful Macintosh font. This may not be particularly timely, but it's been on my mind recently, and I believe it's nevertheless very relevant.
I am getting old. I turned 22 last week and ever since that, the signs have been both telltale and plentiful: I can't drink so much as I used to, I'm tired all the time and various bodily functions have been steadily degrading (a condition that my father recommended \hitting the track"" to remedy). Perhaps even more telling, just as I've finally amassed an admirable music collection, I can't hit a record store without being alerted that some of my favorite CDs are now obsolete, replaced with greatly superior rereleases. Dammit.
It's pretty slim pickings for a music columnist this week. Nobody's died, there aren't any awards shows coming up, no spectacular concerts to review'so I hope everyone will forgive me a little dip into the mainstream. (If that's beneath you, log on to http://www.emogame.com to keep yourself occupied for hours. I don't know who made it, I don't know where it comes from, but damned if it isn't fun.)
the daily cardinal
The trials that plagued the release of Wilco's acclaimed Yankee Hotel Foxtrot should be familiar to anyone who has picked up a magazine in the past year; the troubles that went along with documenting this ordeal may be somewhat less apparent. Rookie filmmaker Sam Jones has handled setbacks admirably, and the proof, \I Am Trying To Break Your Heart,"" opens tonight in Madison at the Orpheum Theatre, 216 State St.
In case you haven't seen it yet, this month's SPIN magazine has a feature called \College Life 101,"" in which the esteemed editors of the publication offer a nice, 500-word rundown of the choicest scene hangouts on various prominent college campuses across the country and'you guessed it'our fair city is covered, in the company of such fine college towns as Berkeley and Lawrence, Kan., ostensibly providing incoming students with a crib sheet of the hippest and hottest spots around town.
Life is a funny series of events and circumstances which can lead you to the strangest and most wonderful places. Like Nepal, for instance, or Tennessee, where I spent a large part of the summer working for the Tennessee Department of Transportation. It was my first extended visit to Dixie and, needless to say, spending a whole summer down there was often a rude shock to my Northern sensibilities.
If there's one thing that all Cardinal Arts writers have in common, it's the stack of promotional CDs that they've swiped from the office at one point or another. Sometimes we took them with the best intentions of actually reviewing them; other times simply hoping that nobody would notice. I used to be able to get away with this, but now my self-righteous editor is my self-righteous roommate, and since he's always in my room borrowing a Fountains of Wayne CD or something, he keeps tabs, and far be it from me to say anything about the huge stack of unreviewed'sometimes unopened'discs next to his bed. But I digress.
Pete Yorn is a model of earnest gumption. After graduating college, he set his mind to landing himself a record deal, and just like that, it happened'and on Columbia Records no less, home to his idols Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan. After scoring the Farrelly Brothers debacle \Me, Myself and Irene,"" he set to work on his debut album, musicforthemorningafter, a collection of introspective ballads and sensitive rockers that won him near-universal acclaim. Yorn plays the Barrymore Theatre, 2090 Atwood Ave., tonight, and Cardinal Arts grabbed his ear and drew his ire Monday night to see what we might expect from the rugged songsmith.
It looks like spring's finally here, and with it, a change of fashion. To all you scenesters who spent the last five months assembling the perfect ensemble of shearling coat, commemorative knit hat and ironic scarf: It's time to start all over again. Break out the \Marathon '86!"" tees and the beat-to-hell All-Stars, because it's a whole new scene out there.
With the release of her third solo album in 2001, Because It Feel Good, Kelly Hogan solidified her place in the upper echelon of the alt-country ranks, alongside Bloodshot Records' label mates Neko Case, Ryan Adams and Robbie Fulks. She is currently on tour and rolls into Cafe Montmartre, 127 E. Mifflin St., on Friday night. The Daily Cardinal caught up with her en route to get some pancakes after a show in Nashville, Tenn.
Family-friendly grunge rockers Cracker are on the road again, now supporting their newest release Forever. If, after a couple of listens, Forever sounds a little mellower than expected from David Lowery, cut him some slack'he has been at it for 17 years in various guises, fronting the progressive folk outfit Camper Van Beethoven in the '80s and helping define alternative rock with Cracker in the 1990s.
I found out last weekend that you can't get WSUM on the east side of the Capitol, an area where I just happened to need to be. So I was driving around with my editor listening to the supposedly progressive 105.5, and a really lame song by Five For Fighting or someone came on.
Big recession going on, I hear, but I don't care: I'm balling to the tune of $6.50 an hour driving a delivery truck for downtown purveyors Capitol Centre Foods. When I was hired last summer, there was no better way to kill six hours a day pushing a Chevy S-10 down Langdon, delivering alfalfa to Statesider blondes. Lately, people seem to have an ungodly preference for cases of soda and leaden cans of tomatoes and I'm a little less keen on sliding around the ice and lugging these goods up how many flights of stairs these days, but hell, it beats being broke like some columnists I know.
The child of twisted folk musicians Loudon Wainwright III and Kate McGarrigle, Rufus Wainwright was welcomed to the music industry with universal high praise for his 1998 self-titled debut. Last years Poses garnered even better reviews for the self-declared \gay opera queen,"" by keeping the trademark lush arrangements more focused. The Daily Cardinal got the man on the horn recently, where he espoused eloquently between gulps of chowder.