It’s been a pretty rough week. I’m in a sleep deprivation cycle, something I’ve been going through every few months. It’s not fun.
A major part of it may be psychological. There is a part of me deep down that doesn’t want to sleep. The rational part of my mind knows I need it, but this destructive instinct is overwhelming.
I’ll probably come out of it in a few days, settling on a bedtime between midnight and 7am. In the meantime, I remain completely crazy and irritable. It’s best to just stay away from me right now.
So, in honor of irrational mental states, here’s some short attention span musings on what I’ve been thinking about lately.
The new album by The Cure, 4:13 Dream is out. It’s just about good enough. There is nothing to truly distinguish it from the other post-Wish albums, but the good/bad song ratio is definitely ahead of 2004’s self titled album, and even overall with 1996’s Wild Mood Swings.
It has the sound of the Cure (in their guitar rock mode), and the same skillfull arrangements and performance, but it doesn’t have it’s own unique emotional hook. These aren’t the kinds of songs you associate new memories and lifetimes with, they instead try to recreate the attachment with Cure songs of old. It flows nicely in the background, and it’s more than up to the task when you want to set that Cure mood in your room without putting on one of the classic LPs you’ve already memorized. That’s enough for it to warrant a purchase from this particular hardcore fan, but it serves a narrow purpose.
Caithlin De Marrais has released her eagerly anticipated (by me and 85 other people) solo album, My Magic City. I’m approaching it delicately, with only 2 carefully considered listens so far. Her previous band Rainer Maria is one of my all time favorites, so it’s difficult not to burden it with expectations. I can’t tell how much depth or longevity is in there yet, but it’s a sharp take on the female indie acoustic style, with her strong lyrical attitude preserved. There are quirks and off kilter arrangements, and sometimes even a little Carole King pops out, but thankfully no concessions to the Feist-esque perceptions of what a modern female indie artist is supposed to be. She’s still the same ass-kicking Caithlin, with the occasional painfully awkward lyric (“Can you tame all the tigers in your bloodstream?” -Rainer Maria) that somehow only adds to the charm.
I’ll be braving commuter trains and Boston subway molemen buskers (who only play an instrumental version of Dust In The Wind by Kansas) to see her show at Middle East Upstairs on December 5th.
This Sunday is the big one, though: my 2nd Nine Inch Nails show. If I survive the floor pit, I’ll have some thoughts on that after.
That’s all for now.
