THIS is a CLOSE-UP?

Modern-day soul albums have jettisoned any connection to the politicized world (where the term “soul” originated) in order to explore the heights and depths of romance. So even though Wild Beasts – white, British, homosexual – don’t seem to obviously fit the mold, Smother is nothing if not an appealing and compelling R&B record. Guitars that simultaneously echo ‘70s funk and ‘80s New Pop ring and chime next to top-of-the-charts electronics, offering a sweet yet skewed take on bedroom tunes. The up-tempo skip of “Bed Of Nails” and the pulsing stalk of “Plaything” and “Albatross” express the yearning extremes of love in flower, and when the end comes too soon (aptly with the finale “End Comes Too Soon”), the idea of full immersion in love – in other words, being smothered in emotion – sparks a longing to hear Smother again and again.

Given my wide array of food allergies, it’s pretty likely that I would have been dead had I been born even a few decades earlier. (What allergies, you ask? I have a strong anaphylaxis with all seafood and nuts, and moderate anaphylaxis with raw fruits and vegetables.) With a long history of food “accidents” (which most often resulted in intense vomiting), my food choices are pretty restricted – I find myself limited to processed food more often than not – and my anxiety about eating at new places is pretty high. So when I can find a place that makes good natural food that I can eat without fear, I really like going to that place. Jose’s is in downtown Petoskey, and with the destruction of the old movie theater a few years back, they have a great view of the bay. The service is solid, with warm and friendly staff, and the environs are clean. When the newest chain eatery in town is Bob Evans, it’s clear that there needs to be a counterbalance to extruded formulaic food products, an

Harry Nilsson was a singer/songwriter in the ‘60s and ‘70s who, in his best moments in music and life, authored transcendent bursts of emotion and drama, an extraverted soul exploding outward to touch all that fell within the blast range. But trouble even the most banal intellect with a discussion of the personality trait of extraversion, and a mention of the flip side – introversion – should soon follow. And that’s where Cass McCombs – a singer/songwriter of the ‘00s and ‘10s, with all that collision of worlds old and new implies – firmly hangs his psychological shingle as an artist. He too traffics in transcendent bursts of emotion and drama, but all in interior shots, the sorrow and melancholy like tangible twine wrapped around the lungs and throat and heart. McCombs released two records in ’11 – Wit’s End followed by Humor Risk – and either one would have scaled the heights in any year. While Humor Risk is merely (“merely”) a collection of great songs with verve and bite – M

It was during my second Master’s degree course work that I more deeply understood the concept of simulacra (via the work of Baudrillard), which is an apt lens with which to gaze upon post-millennial pop culture. Simulacra are copies of that which no longer exists, or may never have existed in the first place, such as the “Fifties diner” or the construction of “The Eighties” as seen in films like The Wedding Singer . The garbled recasting of All Thing Eighties into more or less modern forms bugs me not a little, which I guess would happen when a personally transformative epoch is next up for plunder and pander, but when it’s done right, it hits me in a way that is not at all rational. And while I’m sure that John Maus didn’t lay out those ground rules when he made We Must Become The Pitiless Censors Of Ourselves , who’s to say he didn’t? (He’s a professor of philosophy, among other things.) It’s a vision of a specific ‘80s-linked genre (synth-pop) that’s just slightly out of focus,

It’s hard to conceptualize such a singular talent with so many commercial successes taking as many sonic detours as this guy. Lindsey Buckingham himself framed his intermittent solo work as “indie films” when compared to the widescreen blockbusters of Fleetwood Mac, and that’s as good an analogy as any; it captures the sense of experimentation and control that has defined his non-Mac work, and as any good film geek knows, the indies give you something to devour and perseverate upon that the major studio fodder just can’t provide. Seeds We Sow is as close to a skill set sampler as one can imagine, as hushed confessional vocals align with the taut and powerful shouters, with backdrops of frenetic finger-picking and forceful six-string abuse and metronomic strumming showcasing the broad musical palette Buckingham can bring to bear seemingly on command. It’s a capstone to everything he’s ever done as a musician, from experimental to insinuating, and it’s a shame that there’s no outlet f

What has pulled me into the orbit of Destroyer time and again is that voice, the keening timbre of that sometime New Pornographer Dan Bejar, bard of beers and slinger of songs, offering up missives from the misanthropic yet again. Except now it’s less David Bowie and Robin Hitchcock filtered through indie haze, and more Al Stewart circa “Time Passages” and Avalon -era Roxy Music and other early ‘80s touchstones, replete with swirling saxophones and languid grooves. Given that veneer, it’s hard to see how Kaputt made it past the hipster radar unshelled and free of attack, with the tailored arrangements evincing a smooth MOR sheen more often than not. Then again, the long tail of time v. criticism is a slow focus that keeps the image gauzy and opaque until, by sheer luck and endurance, center stage clarity slips into view. So maybe this type of music, made by a Bizarro blend of Christopher Cross and Syd Barrett, has whipped back around into favor, albeit of a self-aware tint in this 2

I'm finishing up my syllabi for the Winter 2012 semester, and one of the many things that I've included that I don't enjoy is the restriction on in-class use of cell phones. Why such a hard-ass about smartphones? I've looked at the research in cognitive neuroscience on the problems with problem-solving and attention and task switching and the like, and it all points to one thing: Get those phones out of the classroom. Which is why I was interested to see the first graphic below. Obv., the gist is that smartphones are being used more and more in the classroom for legit purposes, at least some of the time. There are some cool sites such as Poll Everywhere that allow for phone-based responses to questions in class, much like a clicker system. So now I'm torn -- I want to stay true to the research behind banning the phones, but I like the possibilities of getting data on relevant questions in pretty close to real time. And if in-class use of existing technologies