ohbijou

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Ohbijou, “Steep” (Swift Feet for Troubling Times, 2006)

Fanfarlo, “I’m a Pilot” (Reservoir, 2009)

If today’s theme seems a little abstract, it’s partly because I still haven’t got a firm grasp on what either of these songs is about. They do have their share of clear similarities: a swaying six-eight feel; deep, resonant piano tones; pixieish plinking upon glockenspiels; “Penny Lane”-like trumpet calls; and lyrics that hint, ever so obliquely, at transcending one’s reality and rising to something greater. But in my mind, they are linked more by the feeling they inspire than by anything concrete.

Wrote Chuck Klosterman once, back when the iPod was just starting to really catch on, “Suddenly, everyone can make a soundtrack for every moment in his or her day. The iPod is the perfect device for anyone who wants to pretend that life is just a movie, and that they’re the main character.” I’ve written about particularly cinematic songs here before, but none so adept at making one feel like one’s life is a movie. Even the most cynical among us have their moments of spontaneous rapture, those times when you’re riding the subway on a summer night in New York with your headphones on, and the train has just gone above ground, and you pass something significant like the Kentile Floors sign or Chinatown or the East River, and  some wonderful song just happens to pop up on shuffle—and you don’t even know why, but your heart fills up and you feel like you could die right then and be happy. “Steep” and “I’m a Pilot” are two of the most splendid things to have in your ears when you’re feeling dramatic, and when singers Casey Mejica (of Ohbijou) and Simon Balthazar (of Fanfarlo) let their voices break over the triumphant crescendoes, one wonders if they knew all along the breathless reverie they would kindle in their listeners.

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6th Street at Night

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

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