Still Special...

Christmas...

I feel like I have mono, on the fringe of being sick...but hopefully not really. I think it just takes a while to recover from racing for 11 hours straight. Today, two bands who move me incredibly both released Christmas videos. Tonight, AMC is in the middle of a play Scrooged every night for 4 nights stretch. The world is trying to tell me December is a good month to just be happy.

I've decided I'm going to allow it.

Conspiring...

December 31, 2010...

Like them...

Meaning...

It's as good as done.

I Didn't Ask For This Orgy...

Love Sundays, really do. Even though since the beginning of my time, they've owned me, taken me apart. Something about the mail shutting down or the world slowing or the "calm" or "day of rest" that I can't handle, that I've never been able to put a finger on.

All week, I've been feeling pains in my neck, in front of my ears, on the sides of my head - swollen and battling glands, everywhere, leading me to believe I'm entering initial stages of a bout with a head tumor/brain cancer/a finally fatal ego. All week, I've been imagining my ultimate diagnosis - 3 years to live...that all of my ailments will be internal, no pain...that there's nothing to be done but live it out. They'll name the disease after me and I'll go out a legend. Fucking legend. I'm no hypochondriac, but internet research is fucking scary. Fucking scary.

Sundays...

Because I teach pedaling on a stationary bike in a dark room on Monday morning and Tuesday night...and also this week Thursday and Sunday, I have to put together playlists. Sometimes it takes a half hour, sometimes a couple hours -- all depending on how fresh I need to make it. This week needs to be fresh, so it's taking a while. And while it was taking a while, these guys arrived, one after the other...



Because for some odd reason, everyone is releasing on Monday November 24th. And by Monday, I mean Sunday at 10pm, and I'm minding my own shit when I-Tunes tells me I'm downloading something like 40 items (yes, pre-ordered from I-Tunes -- broke but proud). And it's too much to deal with on a Sunday. Too, too much -- or so was my first thought.

And even though Coldplay does some silly shit like throw Jay-Z a verse on Lost, in what is essentially a remix (like Killers' Sawdust) - first impression says it still kinda works -- the half-album, not necessarily the song. And even though The Killers/Mr. Flowers are again jumping into a new direction or stratosphere, I'm game to follow. And Kanye's too smart to unravel. It's a lot, but together, and combined with the lot that's already kicking around on this Sunday...

Seriously, I'm so far gone, everything's grand.

Saturday Night Through The Eye Of An IPhone...

Coldplay 7/15/08, The Forum, Inglewood CA...

I must admit, expectations fell somewhere short of stellar. I had earlier seen Muse play The Forum in beautiful Inglewood, California and left thinking the place had sapped their invincibility. When I heard Coldplay was coming to town, and that they were coming to the Forum, I grunted, knew I had little choice but to make the purchase. They're certainly on my list and I'd never seen them live.

I don't know how to lead into this, so I'm just gonna go...

The show was painfully good. Honestly, I think in spots, I ached because of it. Chris Martin is obnoxous and arrogant and amazing. The moment the lights went down, I couldn't fight away this feeling, going over and over in my mind that this was going to be a night I envy for the rest of my life. They were absolutely fucking brilliant. Absolutely. Every song reminded me of the titans they are. All I can think of now, all I know is this yearning to go back and live it again. They crushed the stage, played maybe 13 songs before pulling a rabbit...

Mr. Martin thanked the audience and took off running for what seemed to be an encore tease. But the band followed him through the crowd and up into section 8, to a stage that was really more like a wooden desk, where they hunched together, started in again.

This is what it looked like from my seats in section 7, not far off...



If you fancy the band called Coldplay, I'll tell you few words could fairly paint the scene I'm explaining. In light of such things, allow my progression. See, because I must now speak of my company. Because failure to do so would go against everything I believe in...

I was with this girl, this lovely and totally scary thing. High praise. The band started in on a tame form of "Yellow." Believe, believe it was so good I sunk into the floor. In that moment, I speak with certainty, my moment was as good as anyone's around the world. These things I know. I remember turning to her saying something like come here before the first kiss. I remember pulling back, smiling, moving my eyes back to the band and saying something like my legs are shaking. I remember not knowing which culprit was the cause of my ailment, the band or the girl. I remember being alright with that.

Oh, my night. What a motherfucking night. What a motherfucking night. All I wanna do is listen to "Lovers in Japan" over and over. I can't stop, already missing this, every drop of it.

Coldplay...

Saw this performance the other night. Actually, saw it on YouTube since I find anything MTV rather despicable these days and for some time. My, how refreshing, a summer coming with Coldplay.

Even if they weren't as impressive as they are...even if they weren't this generation's Beatles, Chris Martin is still married to Gweneth Paltrow, and they're giving their kids weird cool names. World conquering band aside, either one of those factors is merit enough to win mention here.

To me, though, there's something else - seeing someone handle grandeur so effortlessly...what a sight.

This album will be a soundtrack...coming back from Malibu or beyond on the PCH, sun setting, skin glowing, wind blowing...pretty young thing riding shotgun.

And judging by the dig from Team Apatow, the whole world's about to be gay again.