Hi there. Hope you all enjoyed Halloween; I did.

So here’s the thing: I’ve been really busy. There’s a lot going on in my world right now, much more than I would ever have expected when I quit my job last winter. Perhaps most notably, I’ve been a hired gun for WNYC, New York’s awesome public radio station, producing segments for the music talk show Soundcheck — like this one. And more importantly to me, I’ve been working on an album — the very first full-length studio release by my project Art Sorority for Girls, after seven years of performing under that name. It’s taken over a year, and it’s still got a ways to go… but I think it’s pretty good so far, and I can’t think of another time I’ve felt so passionately committed to getting something done. Mind you, it hasn’t all been fun; in fact, bouts of intense, crippling doubt and despair have become quite common. But the good days? They’re really good.

In any case, between days at the radio station, days in the studio, and the in-between time that I’ve spent scrambling for freelance work to finance this quasi-bohemian life, I admit I’ve had very little time for you, my faithful readers. Hell, I’ve barely had time for my friends. And when that reality hit me, I panicked and considered shutting my young blog down, if only to save myself the embarrassment of more time in public limbo. But two things have happened in the past week that kept me from jumping ship. The first was that people asked why I had stopped writing; granted, they were all friends of mine, but it was proof that someone out there cared whether this thing lived or died. The other was that I saw This Is It, the Michael Jackson documentary. Apart from being inspired by Jackson’s work ethic, I found that during the rendition of “Thriller,” all I could think about was what the bass line had in common with this one really great Kings of Leon song. That, in itself, seemed proof enough that the well wasn’t dry; I was still thinking the kinds of thoughts that made me start this damned silly thing in the first place.

So I’m giving it another shot. I promise you there will be more dry spells; I’ve got my fingers in so many pots right now that it’s just inevitable. But I’ve been exposed to so much new music this year and it’s given me so much to think about; if you’ll just stay with me, I’ll do my best to deliver the goods whenever I can. Thanks for your support so far.

With love,
Daoud

Homesick Elephant, “Margaret Thatcher Appleby” (EP for Ruby, 2006)

[See post to listen to audio]

I am most recently returned from the nuptials of my dear friends Kevin Kelly and Sara Fitzsimmons, a.k.a. Homesick Elephant. Kevin and Sara have been partners in life and music for as long as I’ve known them, and it’s hard to think of two other people who make such an alarming amount of sense together. So listen to their music and wish them a wonderful life—I’d do it myself, but I’m too busy sobbing.

Homesick Elephant on MySpace
Gazebo Music podcast

Michael Jackson, “Billie Jean” — 1981 Home Demo Version
(Thriller: Special Edition, 2001)

[See post to listen to audio]

Today’s post was supposed to be a personal history in music: 25 formative songs in honor of my 25th birthday, which I celebrated last week. As it happened, though, my birthday was scooped by another, more sensational news item. I think you can guess where this is going.

I’m avoiding the Michael Jackson media blitz as best I can. I’m not watching TV and I’m not reading the news and I’m certainly not listening to the radio—I already got spooked bad enough on Thursday afternoon, when I hadn’t yet learned he’d died and couldn’t figure out why every store I walked into was blasting “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’.” I’ve got a sensitive constitution for this stuff. For what it’s worth, I do believe that celebrity worship in this country is a destructive force, one that sidelines real news and turns fallen stars into gleaming idols, scrubbed clean of whatever unsavory details might mar their legacies. I recognize that it’s wrong to whitewash history like this. But it’s exactly what I intend to do.

The thing is, it isn’t MJ’s death that’s really upsetting me, it’s his life. Not all of it, of course—not that exuberant child singing his heart out on The Ed Sullivan Show, and definitely not the confident young man who took the stage at Motown’s 25th anniversary concert and produced a shriek from the crowd by sliding backwards on his toes for all of two seconds. What’s got me down is the other Michael—the middle-aged man-child with the bleached skin, the sloped nose, the cleft chin he wasn’t born with, and all the attendant scandal and scorn. To witness, via a rapid-fire succession of press clips, his transformation into this state is more than I can stand to watch right now.

As a performer, Michael was astonishingly calculated and precise, and yet in his private life, he seemed ever more unbalanced and confused. His videos rendered him an enchanted sylph, whose powers of invisibility and shapeshifting could get him out of any scrape; in reality, he saw his public image reduced to a crude punchline he could never shake. He spent the latter half of his career in a curious dual existence as both undisputed king and villainous jester, at once a source of inspiration and ridicule.

Michael was 25 when I was born. Now I’m 25 and he’s dead. And as irresponsible as it may be, I prefer to memorialize him as I first saw him: on the cover of the tattered copy of Thriller that I discovered at the Roosevelt Island Thrift Store, and ran on stubby five-year-old legs to ask my mother if she’d buy it for me. That’s the Michael who changed my life, and that’s the Michael I want to remember: halfway through life, at the peak of his career, his beautiful face still mostly intact, still just a kid figuring his life out.

MGMT, “Time to Pretend”
(Oracular Spectacular, 2008)

The Roots featuring Cody ChestnuTT, “The Seed (2.0)”
(Phrenology, 2002)

As of today, This Song / That Song is seeking submissions for guest posts. The whole point of this thing is to foster discussion and get people thinking about the music they listen to in new ways, and as much as I love spouting off about the stuff in my own library, to keep it a solitary venture would royally defeat the purpose. If you like to write, if you like music, and especially if you think you could offer some perspective on areas I don’t regularly cover, then by all means send me an email and pitch away.

Please include a brief (one or two sentence) synopsis of the post you’d like to write, making sure to include the song, artist, and album names. If you have links to the songs on Imeem, YouTube, or some other streaming format, feel free to include them. If you’re new to TS/TS, then browse through the posts in the Features category to get a feel for what the site’s all about.

Thanks for your continued readership—now get cracking!

Love,
Daoud

Dear Readers,

I returned from Texas on Wednesday with a persistent cough and a sinus headache the likes of which I’ve never experienced. Fortunately, my SXSW tour with Air Waves also left me with a few new friends and a lot of new favorites. TS/TS will return to business as usual this week—but first, a brief tribute.

BANDS

Dear Yellow Fever: As if it weren’t enough for you to be my new favorite band, you’re also incredibly nice and pleasant to be around. Give it a rest, guys.

Dear Vivian Girls, Woods, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Cause Co-Motion!, Crystal Stilts, Brimstone Howl, Hot Lava, Little Trooper, Real Estate, The Weakends, The Beets, Quiet Hooves, and all the rest: It was an honor, a pleasure, and at times an utterly surreal experience to play with you. Enchanté.

Dear Agent Ribbons and Ohbijou: Please be my friends. I’ve seen both of you play twice, and have tried each time to introduce myself with dignity, but instead ended up nerding out and gushing all over you. I promise I’m not as weird as all that; it’s just that you’re really quite good.

Dear Memphis: Your young musicians—Magic Kids, The Warble, Dorothy Jones, and Girls of the Gravitron, to name just a few—are not just talented, they’re extremely friendly and hospitable. That egg-and-biscuit breakfast we were given was such a lovely surprise.

Dear Herman Dune: Your songs kick ass and Neman’s drumming is a fucking inspiration. Also, thanks for coming to our showcase; it gave me the warmest, fuzziest feeling.

Dear Harlem Shakes: Thanks for letting me sing with you. Your new songs sound great.

Dear Thermals: You guys look so happy to be playing music; keep smiling!

PLACES/THINGS

Dear Mi Madre’s: Your food is on my shortlist of reasons to move to Austin. I didn’t know what café de olla was a week ago and now I crave it all the time.

Dear Amy’s Ice Creams: Who the hell thinks to combine doughnuts with coffee ice cream? A genius, that’s who.

Dear downtown Austin at night during SXSW (see image above): I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so thoroughly insane as I did around you. I don’t want to see you for at least a year.

Dear Carousel Lounge: Your decision to combine circus and burlesque themes is extremely creepy, and yet intriguing.

PEOPLE

Dear Rebecca, Adam & Jon, Craig, Sam, Alex, and Jennifer & Adam: Thanks for letting me sleep on your floors. I hope I can return the favor someday.

Dear Yoko, Deenah, Christy, Adam, Isabel, Andy, Max, and Fidel: It was so nice to see you all in a new city. Deenah, I’m glad we got to go swimming—I had seaweed in my hair for the rest of the day and probably smelled like a swamp, but wasn’t it so totally worth it?

Dear Nicole, Rita, and Carlos: Thanks for driving my unlicensed ass across fourteen states; sorry I sucked so bad with directions. I pledge to learn to drive before I hit 27.

Dear Daoud: Don’t worry about not handing out enough Art Sorority CDs or This Song / That Song stickers. You weren’t there to network—you were there to play and have fun, and fun is so much funner when you don’t look at it as an opportunity for self-advancement. Also, don’t be so nervous about talking to bands! These people aren’t your idols, they’re your peers.

love,
Daoud

Dear Readers,

I know it seems like the computer fiasco was only yesterday, but I humbly request your patience once again—starting tomorrow, I’ll be on a two-week tour to South by Southwest as the pinch-drummer for Brooklyn’s own Air Waves, and thus largely unable to post. I promise to return at the end of March with scintillating tales of the indie-rock zeitgeist; hope you’ll keep carrying the torch till then.

love,
Daoud

Air Waves, “Shine On” (EP, 2008)

[See post to listen to audio]

love,
Daoud

PS: For the uninitiated, here’s one of the two songs that inspired the creation of TS/TS, featuring some drumming by yours truly.

Yoko Kikuchi, “This Song” (This Song / That Song, 2006)

[See post to listen to audio]

Download the This Song / That Song EP: Amazon MP3

My friend Emma passed away this weekend. She was absurdly smart and talented and beautiful, and I owe so much of who I am today to having known her. Here are two songs she shared with me when we first met eight years ago, which to this day I can’t hear without thinking of her.

Weezer, “The World Has Turned and Left Me Here”

[See post to listen to audio]

The Cure, “Just Like Heaven”

[See post to listen to audio]