sigh.

i've been feeling a little dark lately. been trying my best to keep my spirits high, cover up any mopeyness. instead, i've just been drinking myself into a series of more blackouts than i'd like to admit. making an ass out of myself. so there's highs and lows. drunk, or locked away in my closed off bedroom. ignoring calls. texts. internet. i'm starting to kinda scare myself a little bit. sometimes i can't tell the difference between my nightmares and reality. how deep, right? not really. just sort of pathetic.

i KNOW i'm the key to my happiness. i just gotta get up off my ass, out in the world outside the confinement of my bedroom walls. apply to more jobs. look for apartments. fuck, leave town for a bit. i ain't got shit here holding me for a while. i could go hop on the next megabus and trek to madison. or minneapolis. fuck, anywhere. but i don't even have the energy to entertain those ideas. instead, i sleep. i sleep probably 18 hours a day. i wish i was kidding, but i'm not. sleep is the easiest escape.

i feel like i'm steering down a slope of insanity. this is all bullshit, i'm sure, but i'm not feeling right. i can't outwardly say this to any of my friends because i get the same reaction anytime i try to hint something isn't right with me, the old "don't worry jodi it'll all be ok, you're smart and pretty things will get better." what they don't know is, my head disagrees with these generic notions. if i had healthcare, i'd more likely be back on anxiety meds in a heartbeat.

i had it "all." or at least, a good chunk of what a 27 year old's supposed to. but here i am now, irresponsible, lethargic, selfish, miserable and alone. i'm trying to write it out. find a job. pick up hobbies. get craft night/book club back up and running. join chirp. get a waitressing gig. fuck, anything, to force me out of this room. but nothing seems to work out. i just keep clinging to false premonitions, thinking time will work things out. this is just a "slump." but not to get all creepy and pity train or whatever, but i've been having some pretty scary shit running through my head lately. i just want to write it out before i self destruct.

even music isn't enough for me anymore. the only day to day contact i'm guaranteed to keep is with my cat. i always knew i'd be a crazy cat lady, but i anticipated that time to come in my spinster 40's or 50's, not late 20's. how do i continue to fake it? put on this fake smile and keep on dancing the happy life parade? i'm not trying to seek pity here, i just really need to know. how does it all work out? talking to people doesn't work. sleeping doesn't make any of the hardships disappear for more than the time of unconcsiousness. my family doesn't give a shit. i can write and write and write, but reality's still stagnant.

do i move? do i meet new people? neither of these seem a viable or realistic option given my state of mind. i just miss yesterday. or next week. or whenever the hell i'll meet someone who can make me smile. give me something to do other than sleep and hide in this bedroom. being a 27 year old unemployed single soon to be homeless person really sucks.

that is all. with this, i will either crank up the a/c and crawl back in bed despite being awake a mere hour and a half or put on a pair of pants.

i'm telling you all now. . . .

don't waste your time with chuck palhiniuk's latest novel, tell all. i kinda had a hunch i would yet again fail to be wowed with his newest release, given that i hadn't heard the slightest buzz about a new book period, but then again after the weak terrorist pygmy and even weaker pornstar smut snuff, i'm not surprised. and to think, with such genius reads as choke, invisible monsters, haunted, lullaby, hell even survivor and diary, (although ironically while fight club tops my fave movie list, it's the only novel i couldn't even finish of his). i don't know, he used to easily be my favorite author. but now, it seems dude's more set on pushing out a new book every year like clockwork. as a result, he's just clinging to his whole kitsch, off-beat if-you-don't-get-it-then-you're-just-not-understanding-my-hip-art whateverness and is overproducing shitty reads.

who knows, if you're a die hard palhiniuk fan, maybe you will dig tell all, but i know i didn't. then again, i need to remind myself why did i just spend my entire sunny summer friday locked in my bedroom, holed up under the covers with the a/c blasting reading this 179 page number front to back in one sitting? because i'm unemployed. and bored. and hopeful. was hoping it would at least turn into something worthwhile. but really, once you're halfway into this tale, you know the ending/twist. it's so palihiniuk formula predictable. narrator isn't who she/he says she/he is. turns out to be what you would NEVER (or i guess now, what your first guess would be) guess they would turn out to be. HOW SHOCKING. oh, and throw in a bunch of annoying narrative tools where homeboy describes any conversation other than what the narrator (the maid) is conversing as animal sounds. *cluck, moo, growl* annoying and unneccesary.

basic premise is: aging out of limelight movie star. she has a live-in maid/friend/caretaker, whatever. a slew of ex-husbands ('was-bands'). she hasn't had any relevant work in a while. meets some hot-to-trot younger dude who romances her. blah blah blah. the beau writes a novel about her, exploiting actress and plots her death, with a new revision every few days of a new twist of death. actress gets work in a broadway type play. successful. looks like her psycho killer boyfriend is bringing her back to life with her fear. and then oh my god guess what????? (SPOILER ALERT). boyfriend never wrote book. maid/friend did. and then she kills them both so it looks like he did it. maid/friend writes her own book claiming it an autobiography. success. oh, how sneaky palhiniuk, you totally had me foiled there.

goddamn it all to hell. why didn't i just go to the beach? even missed salt n pepa at taste of chicago. that's it, i'm never reading another book EVER AGAIN.

ummm. . . .

setting: in line at the cardinal liquor store. young sexy girl (me) lifts a 6 pack of orangey bottled beer and 6 pack of high life on counter. non-english speaking new employee who doesn't recognize our heroine asks for her identification and begins ringing her up. old friendly looking man with silver mustache and trucker's cap stands behind sexy girl in line.

old friendly looking man: "them new?"
young sexy girl: "huh?:
oflm: "tattoos, on yer feet"
ysg: "oh, no" (awkward chuckle, turns away to pay with credit card)
oflm: "say, what's that one?"
ysg: "what's that?"
oflm: "the black thingies on yer foot, what is that?"
ysg: "oh, umm, a cat skull."
oflm: (blank look at ysg) "what's below it der?"
ysg: (awkward smile) "crossbones, a cat skull with crossbones"
oflm: (blank confused stare, no response)
ysg: (turns away, signs credit card receipt and runs away)

yap, this about sums up my social interaction for the day.

i need to move to canada, probably.

maybe it's the rain storm. maybe it's my quarter life hump of what-the-fuck-am-i-doing-with-my-life-and-why-doesn't-anyone-love-me crisis. maybe it's because i'm rocking a denim jumper. or shouldn't be drinking red wine alone. or perhaps it's most simply, because i have a vagina.

whatever it is, i'm totally feeling tegan and sara right now. i think my fave record of theirs has to be 'if it was you,' their older one that rocks 'living room,' 'monday, monday' and 'time running.' 2002, it was. although i didn't really feel it til 2004 or so. god. such simple little dykey indie jams. lesbian canuck twin sisters with obscure haircuts. they make me feel so. . . .something. wishful to be a lezbot maybe? i dunno.

i think that everyone should have to listen to this album at least once. but that's just me. i wish my roommate wasn't home right now. because then i could strip off all my clothes and scream my guts out, dancing my ass off to my cat. well, i guess i can always wait until she goes to work tomorrow, or just do this in my room instead of the entire apartment hallway. but where's the fun in that?

can any of ya'll tell it's been a few days since i've been social? stupid weather. . . i should just move to canada and live with the quinn sisters. make them let me join their band. give me a job. run away from all the lame staleness surrounding me. and then i could impress them with how i know all the words to 'so jealous,' 'the con' and 'if it was you.' (but not 'sainthood,' cuz that record kinda sucks).

i luv this pretty baby.

she makes me never want a job ever again. miss molly is my lyfe.

men i want to date : sean daley

it's been a few days since i've rambled about a dream crush. i guess i've been too lazy to daydream or masturbate or something. flipping through my itunes,  i just got done rocking some andrew bird, and scrolling down, boom. it hits me. atmosphere. how many years have i been crushing on mr. daley now anyway? like 7? fuck man, ever since my pal burnt me a copy of god loves ugly, i've been smitten with slug's rhymes and beats. midwest represent, ya'lllllll.

reasons i want to date sean daley/slug/atmosphere:

1. he is so super nice it's fucking ridiculous.
2. after i wrote a review of his show at the vic a few years back, he found me on myspace and messaged me thanking me for such a nice review, closing out the msg "stay safe jodester". JODESTER. i nearly died. any man who calls me jodester is a-ok in my heart (and panties.) *minus any childhood friends or relatives, of course.
3. his live shows are some of the best performances i've ever seen
4. he could introduce me to p.o.s (another future man jodi would like to date)
5. i could crash at his place whenever i visit my friends in mpls instead of having to call 5 diff people and impose on their sofas
6. free entrance to first ave, duh
7. i could have him rap that hidden track on seven's travels where he shouts out to oshkosh, wisconsin, and we could talk about how we both lived there
8. no reason to lie, i've had a lot of lovers, but in my reality it's impossible to avoid it.
9. GOD LOVES UGLY.
10. he's hot. (even with the acne scars).

the funemployment continues. . .

ugh. so i guess even though my resume was straight forward, homeboy didn't want to hire me today. OH WELL. things could be worse. there's still a small (as in 1/1,000,000) chance i might get hooked up with some sort of employment if he doesn't find anyone better within the week, but i'm pretty sure dude just told me to email him next week so he didn't completely squash my dreams/day/life. whatever, i'm over it.

i have a suntan. a bitchin' curly side pony tail. got my writings done today without too much hassle. have an appointment to check a pretty rad apartment tomorrow. am getting hooked up to work a promo/press gig for some local band (who omg get this, WANT TO PAY ME). shit's aight. i'll get a job. at least now i don't have to worry about asking time off right away for p4k and arlo-visits-jodi-best-day-of-her-life-july-8-2010.

AND, i'm listening to andrew bird. who i haven't listened to in quite some time. andrew bird & the mysterious production of eggs is a fantastic record that i continuously overlook, forgetting how the simple delicate whistlin ditties can make me feel a-ok. i like feeling a-ok, makes me swivel around in my denim jumper and meow loudly to my cat. she likes this.

optimism. that's my newest goal. even when shit reeks stronger than portapotty row at lollapalooza on a 90 degree day, just fucking breathe through your mouth. eat the shit particles. then it don't smell so bad. and you can just smile you a fool, skip down the lane and pretend it's ok.

sooner or later, it eventually is again anyway.

like gravy train, i'm hella hella hella nervous.

omg. my tummy is hurting. my palms are sweaty. i gots more jitters than a first date. i'm bout to go to my jobby interview in an hour. eek! i don't wanna get too worked up about it, cuz i'll just be bummed if i dont get it. but if i do, expect a brand new and improved HAPPY jodi robin root. eeeeeek!!!!!!!

xo.

it's 12:30 am. friday night. 'stead of boozing it up somewheres, i'm hiding in my room, a/c blasting, sunburnt, dirty, wet. had a long day of battling mother nature, nearly got killed by some flying street tents and roadblock signs. fucking crazy. tired. but not sleepy. that's a contradictory statement, ain't it? it's really dreary. rainy, grey, humid, shitastic. normally i lurv me the rain, but not when i put on an additional ten pounds of water weight and i gotta walk hella far in squishy sponge sneakers. so i tried to listen to an appropriate soundtrack on my el ride home. tried steve miller band. too argyle and upbeat. tried postal service. too quirky and depressing. tried the xx, again, c'mon can we get any more cliche jodi?

got home, peeled off the wet clothing. threw on a comfy lil' black nightgown. hopped on my laptop. skimmed through the itunes, elliott smith, per chance? too depressing. . . well, maybe not. spun the ole' xo. good choice, i must say. i always overlook how genius this album really is. i haven't been able to find my figure 8 in god knows how long, basement/hill is def too depressing, the others while awesome, still bummertown usa. not trying to get all dark here, just listen to an appropriate mood setter. turns out xo is it.

from the opening chords of 'sweet adeline' to the sorrow nostalgic yet bittersweet 'waltz #2,' this 44 minute, 14 track collection is a beautiful stray from the e.smith norm. (aka, i dont feel like slitting my wrists or climbing into a dark hole). 'baby britain,' 'bottle up and explode,' man. i love this album. it's really good. i think that everyone should listen to this when they're sitting in on a friday night, overcoming a shitty waste of a day. it makes it ok, you know?

i wish elliott never would have died. so much sadness. sometimes you can't win 'em all.

jodi gets an email : job interview edition.

don't wanna jinx it, but i got a response to a job inquiry email sent yesterday this evening.

it's for like, a really dope place. doing really kewl stuff. and it's kinda my perfect temporary solution.

if i'm kewl enough. we'll see. here's to hoping!!

men i want to date : bill murray

ok, so homeboy is old enough to probably be my grandfather. but i don't give one shiz. have you seen meatballs? i mean, DAMN! dude's hilarious. i will always have a daddy complex crush on bill murray. i don't care if his face looks like it was zapped in a microwave fourteen times and then left for dead. hell, i'll even forgive him for garfield.

reasons why i want to date bill murray:

1. i could assign 'are you ready for the summer' as his ringtone
2. he likes crashing random parties.
3. he was a ghostbuster, could prob hook me up with my old slimer ink stamp set
4. we could go on a romantic golf cart ride
5. babyruth bars.
6. we could party with wu-tang clan
7. he and my mom would probably get along pretty well
8. we could make fun of gwenyth paltrow
9. he could introduce me to jason schwartzman
10. he's bill fuckin murray.

dance party til death.

last night was radical. headed to schuba's with some new pals (word up laurennnn, sconsin represent). got there in time for about 15 mins of clique talk's gnarly set, boogied my butt off to their interesting rendition to rick ross's 'everyday im hustlin', i was spitting along like, whoa, what, how do i know all these words, what the hell am i singing to? then boom. damn. awesome. 2nd band was hall & oates meets math rock if your aunt hired your hipster cousins to play her wedding reception - and totally not in a cool way, but omg this shit is awful way. bummer. but then lookbook brought that house down. totally digging their album, but live? wow. for two (very nice, btw) people, they made a helluva sound and got the crowd dancing hard. think if phantogram removed the mystic dark schtick outta their ass and just focused on rocking out, these two brougth it. so much fun. shouldn't be allowed. nights like last make me eternally grateful to be unemployed.

men i want to date : kanye west

yeah yeah yeah yeah, shut up. ya'll knew this one was inevitable. OF COURSE i'd wanna go on a date with yeezy, he's my boy. only the one and only egotistical greatness could pull off that autotune shiz from 808's and still get my hard earned cash in his pocket. love mr. west. always and forever. so as if ya didn't know already, behold.

reasons why i want to go on a date with kanye west:

1. he's got cool kicks.
2. george bush doesn't like black people.
3. he's a gay fish.
4. he cussed out taylor swift. (this made me laff til i was cryin').
5. chicago represent!
6. ummm, have you heard college dropout? graduation? them albums are fucking masterpieces.
7. he could introduce me to jay.
8. he could probably get molly a real pair of kanye glasses.
9. argyle would flip the fuck out.
10. kanye likes girls with big booties, so i'm confident i would fit the bill.

having one's cake and eating it too.

needing to compose a preview of sharon van etten's pitchfork performance. re-visiting her debut effort, 'because i was in love.' i was a fucking tool to volunteer to write about this. at least, considering the timing. truth be told, this woman is amazing. her soulful vocals channel old school heather nova. her folk guitar abilities are genuine. watching her perform is like spying on pure heartbreak. you can't help but be moved by her raw, gutteral sincerity, both musically and emotionally.

the lyrics to consolation prize couldn't ring more true. jesus. well, here's to taking one for the team of professional penmanship and like mya, i'm moving on.

men i want to date : jason schwartzman

i'm almost starting to run out of ideas for this post. i guess dating is prob one of the last things on my mind these days, but let's just say if i quit posting these, there are several celeb crush dates i could be missing out on. so i will stick to my guns and keep on keepin on. jason schwartzman wins this week becuase he's kewl. that is all.

reasons i want to go on a date with jason schwartzman:

1. he could introduce me to bill murray. (AND ted danson).
2. i could assign phantom planet's 'california' as his ringtone.
3. he's a little guy.
4. he's related to that there coppola family, so could prob score me some free bottles of the francis ford red blend wine. that shit's good.
5. we could laugh at how much his brother's band rooney sucks ass.
6. i could get free tix to the wes anderson films and prob some free dvds
7. i'm going to be living with a drummer and a drummer wannabe, so i'm sure if he came home with me, my roommates wouldn't mind. they could probably all jam together.
8. if i asked really nicely, he might even wear that nerdy hat to our date that he wears in rushmore.
9. he's incredibly geeky looking. i find geeky guys to be incredibly attractive.
10. i bet he'd buy me at least one drink and prob wouldn't even complain if i ordered a beer other than pbr. but at the same time, i don't think he'd hate on me for loving pbrs.

harlo rides (again).

i haven't been "home" in over a year. i think "home" constitutes as the town i grew up in, argyle. it's not that horrible of a place, it's safe, the people, while a bit on the ignorant side are nice enough. life's simple there. (translation : boring as fuck). all these kids i went to school with are always facebook messaging me "when are you coming back?" and i don't think they get it, i'm not.

my mom is leaving her boyfriend of 20 years. they just lost their house and she's currently apartment hunting for a single bedroom place. i have no "friends" there, but am friendly enough i guess with the townies where swinging through for a drink would be entertaining for about 20 minutes or so. but since my pal from childhood moved down here and we've hung out, there've been a few trips down memory lane. some things i completely forgot about and would have never again remembered. some names i wish i didn't remember but do. mannerisms. rumors. gossip. it's funny. like, a kitsch that you want to gag at but can't because you're a part of it.

one memory i forgot, but am grateful to have remembered, though is of harlo. i don't know if harlo is this guy's real first name or not (i think it is). i have no idea what his last name is, although im sure my mom could tell me. i think he was slightly off his rocker, not enough to have to live in a group home or anything, but just the type of guy who had a slight speech impediment and a wide grin on his face everytime you saw him.

as kids in junior high, we'd walk to the gas station across the bridge. this was seriously, our entertainment. "what do you want to do today?" "uhh, i guess we could go to bj petro and get a soda and some comics or something" "cool." then maybe push one another around in the laundromat carts. put tony schlafli in a dryer and turn it on. that kinda thing. but anyway. . . we'd stroll the 2 blocks or so to the gas station and there would be harlo, all smiles, thick framed square glasses (he'd be an ultra hip guy here in chicago), bib overalls. i always thought he was super old, i remember being maybe in 4th-6th grade thinking harlo was an old senile dude, but i dont think he really was all that old.

he'd always ring his bike bell and smile, "hi hi hi hi hi how'ya doin?" as kids, we'd want to taunt him but were too polite to openly do so, so usually the only conversation back would be along the lines of, 'hey harlo, what kinda bike you got there?' which would set him off in a tizzy of "schwinn schwinn schwiin, these the best bikes, oh yes yes yes yes gotta get a schwinn schwinn" and he'd nervously twitch, nod his head and twinkle his big magnified eyes at you. smiling the whole while. then he'd hop on his magical bicycle and ride off to main hill.

my pal ryan and i once made up a song about harlo. harlo rides again. it was fun. a nice little tribute to the town schwinn man. last time i was home last year, i walked to the gas station. it's no longer bj petro, but a marathon station. the pumps are no longer manual and you don't get served in your car anymore. there's credit card machines and to this day the townies still cuss at the beeping and don't understand how to operate the pumps.  i got a redbull and some doritos. was heading home and then but who rings his bell at me and gives me the same sincere childlike smile? but mr. harlo schwinn himself.

that really made my day. memories like these are what make the world right.

(i just visited the official argyle, wisconsin community webpage. i'm visitor #87.)
http://www.argylewi.org/

(this) thursday night dance party? maybe?

i've got pals up in minnesnota. they's aiight. they like good music and from time to time we'll share our tastes/recommendations. one such band i heard on the fly was a lil' duo by the name of lookbook. pals' band played with em and the name stuck out. when my editor at innerview assigned me a preview for their upcoming gig at schuba's this thurs, the name clicked in recognition and i got ahold of their effort 'wild at heart' and wasn't disappointed. kinda electro-synth rockish glitter new wave-ish, but not in the fluffy disposable trend of the week flavor. homegirl's got pipes on her and the dude's got mad production skills. at least that's what i picked up from spinning (and re-spinning) the record. soooooo, schuba's, thursday june 17th, 8 bones. who the hell is ma' date? clique talk's opening if that's any incentive. sweaty, awkward chubster screaming like a banshee. should be entertaining to say the least. . . plus i could really use a dance-off, so i'll buy you a brew if ya' accompany my stressed ass.

stayin' smooth, bitches.

ok, so this totally kinda made my day turn around now. stay smooth is back, bitches. yacht rock's finest. dancin at the yacht club. drinkin drankin drinx. most fun i ever had (well, on a boat anyway) 2 years back. and now dj stv slv and bald e are bringing back the noize. pleez request off work and put this shit on your calendars now. it was 40 bones all inclusive last time. i wound up on a private motor boat with the stars of yacht rock and some kid who went to my college at 4:00 am. courtney wound up in naperville. it was one of dem' nights.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ELX0AxEqmV8

wisconsin's finest.

and no, i will never get a star for argyle. that's just foolish.

vacation from vacation day.

i've been really busy distracting myself lately. fun here, fun there, fun up the wazoo. smiling. drinking. dancing. laughing. but you know what? today i really need a break. my bod feels like it's been rolled over by a concrete truck and i don't have the energy to fake a grin today. so alas, i guess i'll get to some writing, eat some junkfood and watch some shitty horror flicks. hopefully this lil' funk will pass and i'll be back in bidness causing a ruckus in no time, but if not? well, don't take it personally when i ignore your texts is all.

blerg. at least i copped that new m.i.a. disc. . . .

men i want to date : danny devito.

so who says you have to touch/kiss on a first date? in this case, i am pretty darned certain there'd be no lip lockin' goin on, but that doesn't mean i still wouldn't love to go on a date with this dude. pretty sure it'd be a memorable experience, anyway. i heart danny devito.

reasons why i want to go on a date with danny devito:

1. twins! he could introduce me to ahnold
2. i bet if i asked really nicely, he'd dress up like shamus from its always sunny for our date with that awesome fake pony tail
3. homeboy gets sauced on lemondrop shots
4. he could tell me stories about throwing mama from the train
5. he likes pretty good music, or at least takes advantage of his celeb status to show up at all the cool indie music fests
6. i think it'd be funny to tower over a dude
7. ggggrrrlrlrlrlrrlrrrrlll go for it, go for it
8. i could call my mom and be like, 'you'll so never guess who i'm on a date with right now,' and she wouldn't.
9. i'm guessing danny devito would probably like the green eye.
10. i wouldn't have to put out.

jodi is (not) a cool kid.

goddamn it. i really want to go to millennium park right now. the cool kids are playing a free noon show. i like these dudes, caught em live back when i saw the go team and the hood internet for the first time. saw em again in austin a few times. they're from chi, but haven't played as a team (typically just pretentious dj gigs at rehab or evil olive - gag) in a while. so i'm upset that i'm currently being held hostage in my bed.

my bed rules. it's got clean sheets, queen sized, a million pillows. so i can lay sideways, upside down, diagonally, you get it. spoon my pillows like they're pretend aziz ansaris. you get it. the skies are grey so that's certainly not helping. my body is sore as fuck from standing all weekend. all i want is to roll over and sleep. . .

alas! to go to show or no? i wish i was a cool kid. . . maybe with a little bit of gold and a paaaaager.

rainy dance parties are always the bestest.

oh metronome. sweet, sad, wet, bitter metronome. you took my weekend. and now i am in bed. post sangria and goose island green lines. i have 5 cans of amp, an old style (and an old style light!), 2 half full bottles of wine and a variety of garbage rolling around on my floor. i've got a kinda wicket farmer tan. an upset stomach. soggy shoes. i think i went to this after party? pretty sure i made like 80 new "let's be best pals!" acquantences. i wonder who all has my number now. .  .

regardless.

akron/family really impressed me. i don't know why, but i always just ignored them when i read about them. figured they were folk and boring whatnot. but last night, downpour. perfect perfect soundtrack. all the idiots were scrambling in the rain. oh no. wet. me? i was the idiot dancing like a jester in the beer tent, pouring them brews with a shit eating grin on my face. pals came. gave 'em brews. danced in the rain. fun upbeat chaotic jams. so good. so now i want you all to check out this akron/family. b/c they were fun. and fun is good. (and you can imagine me soaking wet, jumping around like an awkward geek).

you and i and the plane make 3.

http://www.myspace.com/akronfamily

men i want to date : damon albarn

maybe i should retitle this post as men i'd like to rape. because i would. spike them tea and crumpets with ruffies fo' sho. i've had my heart on this now old man brit for the past 13 years. from the very first "woo-hoo" to his new monkey opera garbage, i'd tap that.

reasons why i'd like to date damon albarn:

1. that mickey mouse t-shirt he wore in the song 2 video
2. his gorillaz cartoon alias
3. he could probably introduce me to his ex-gf justine friedman from elastica
4. he could help me write a kitty opera to coincide with his monkey opera
5. he's fucking hot
6. he likes safe sex (girls and boys, anyone??)
7. if he started talking about boring stuff, it'd be easy to tune him out because of his accent and i could pretend i didn't understand him instead of blatantly ignoring him
8. he probably can afford a car, thus, could pick me up from my apartment
9. i could drunkenly tell him how coffee & tv is my favorite music video of all time
10. i could openly masturbate to him with my eyes and mouth wide open.

don't wake me, i plan on sleeping.

i'm laying in my bedroom in the dark. it's only 9:00 pm. i was going to try and watch porn on my computer with headphones on so my roommate wouldn't hear strange sexy sounds coming from my room, but instead i got distracted by accidently clicking on the postal service on my itunes.

this isn't a bad thing.

i haven't really paid much attention to this album in eons. and when i did, it certainly wasn't on headphones. there's something different, about listening to an album with a quality sound system, cranked extra loud with clear quality and thumping bass in headphones compared to regular speakers. i'm talking computer headphones here, not ipod system. i don't know, maybe i'm just on a limb here. but this album is incredible.

i don't think anything else could sound so appealing and happy to my earbuds as give up right now. 'we will become silhouettes,' 'recycled air,' and now 'nothing better.' death cab for cutie and rilo kiley attracted my attention for about ten minutes in 2004/5, but now i could care less if i ever hear another cough from either ben gibbard or jenny lewis. but on give up, i welcome their simple, bouncy boy/girl sugar melodies with open arms.

i don't know what it is with me lately, but between my mates of state and postal service madness, i sure have been a sucker for post-romance bubblegum pop ditties lately. it's ok, reminds me of simpler times - cruising in my glittery broken red ford tempo, windows down, hair blowing in the wind, loud muffler sound rattling below the beats of 'such great heights' or 'goods (all in your head)'. driving nowhere, everywhere, getting closer and closer to the unknown destination. still on that journey, but now instead of a beater car, i'm pumping along pink fenders.

some day i'll get there, wherever my destination lies, but probably not thanks to computer porn.

the stars were alligned.

My review review of what went down last night at Lincoln Hall is below. I didn't wanna oversnob it and gush on how awesome the live renditions of all the Five Ghost tracks were, but oh my goodness all mighty, were they on fire. They played pretty much the new album in its entirety. And I, personally, LOVED it. When Amy Millan softly cooed "Changes - I've Never been good with change, I hate it when it all stays the same; caught between the gold and the gate, my heart beats again;" I nearly died. Or cried. Or something.

The fucking six man orchestration of nostalgic synth work and throwback keys, electro rhythms and her girly vocals just siezed my broken little heart. And when they played "Your Ex-Lover is Dead," I really did die. At least on the inside. Probably my favorite Stars song ever written, the gentle mass crowd sing along ("You were what I wanted, I gave what I gave. I'm not sorry I met you, I'm not sorry it's over, I'm not sorry there's nothing to say"), broken hearted anthem shook me up. The melodies were so mesmerizing. The lyrics definitely hit a little too close to home. But despite my handful of brews or so into the night, I kept my poker face and just swayed against the brick pillar on the balcony, quietly singing along, tapping my little toes.

But it wasn't all pity cluster fuck broken hearted songs, I was definitely skip dancing my little heart out 89% of the set, scribbling my notes like a fiend. Quite possibly the best show I've checked since Beach House, it was a memorable evening. Too bad the damned Hawks stole the thunder, leaving me with the repetitious "da da da, da da da da da da da da da duhhhhs" instead of my pussy dreamy indie pop jams. Oh well, win some, lose some.

______________________________________________

I feel incredibly privileged to be amongst the few media folk lucky enough to have gotten a sneak peek at Stars’ forthcoming fifth studio album The Five Ghosts. This 11-track collection is the group’s most cohesive and flawless release to date, even trumping out my personal fave, ‘04’s Set Yourself on Fire. Departing from their long time label, Arts & Crafts, Stars funded their album independently and self-released the record on their new label, Soft Revolution. As a result, you can tell the group really took the time to fine tune their weaknesses, and The Five Ghosts is much more synth driven than past efforts, also focusing more on the vocal harmonic chemistry between Torquil Campbell and Amy Millan. The album doesn’t drop until June 22nd, and so far the sextet has been fortunate to avoid any digital leaks. So I can only imagine what it must have been like to witness the musical majesty which unfolded last night at Chicago’s Lincoln Hall as the other 95% of the crowd.

I strolled in a few minutes late just in time to catch the bittersweet poppy gem “I Died So I Could Haunt You.” My favorite track on the new record, I instantly knew this show was going to be a great one. The sound quality was a bit on the quiet side, but was crisp and clearer than ever. The collision of soft percussion, slinky synth work and jittery keys led Millan’s whispery honey dripping vocals into what she introduced as “track four,” (also known as the first single, “Fixed”). Violet and gold hues splashed the stage, and the sold-out crowd politely swayed and bopped accordingly to the next 45 minutes or so of the majority of The Five Ghosts.

Thanking the audience for allowing them to present their new material, Campbell tossed a handful of rose stems and petals into the crowd. Millan assured the full house they would soon return with the second half of the show, with more familiar material, which surely didn’t disappoint. The overall vibes and quality of the performance was much tighter and memorable than their last Chicago date at the Vic a few years back. Highlights included numbers from their full catalogue, including Heart’s “Elevator Love Letter,” Bedroom’s “Take Me to the Riot,” Set Yourself on Fire’s “Your Ex-Lover is Dead,” “Ageless Beauty” and a mass crowd sing-along to “One More Night (Your Ex-Lover is Dead).”

Then, as if the eloquent encore finale “Calendar Girl” wasn’t mind blowing enough to call it a night, Lincoln Hall proceeded to drop their flat screen to the crowd with just enough time to watch the Blackhawks score their overtime Stanley Cup winning goal. It was a good night to be in the city. You might say that for Chicago, the stars were aligned.

mates of state are so adorbs i could die.

mates of state are the most sugary pop wholesome makers of pop music in the world. they are hip, intelligent, attractive and make fun beats. they are married with kids. they tour the country and make pop music.

i h8 them.

just kidding. i actually adore them. from my wrst days with 'team boo' to 'bring it back' and 08's 're-arrange us,' i've basically been a number one fan. like the mom and dad to matt and kim, if you will. they will be playing lincoln hall in a few weeks and i really really wanna go. they make me happy. and happy is good.

their newest project isn't a full album, persay, but a digital download mixtape of covers songs. the selection is pretty spread out and surprising, from the mars volta to belle and sebastian (which is so fucking sweet i want to DIE), it's a damn mighty fine. you can head to their website, http://www.matesofstate.com/ for a free download of both daniel johnston's 'true love will find you in the end' (god, i can only hope so), and girls' 'laura,' (another ironical track for yours truly at the moment).

i fucking hate love songs. but i fucking love mates of state. so this i guess is what i'll call a happy compromise. check this shit out, dudez, perfect summer feel good bubble gum.

men i want to date : ezra koenig

this post needs no explanation. he looks like a cartoon character for christ's sake!!! hopefully one day one of my crushes will find my blog and ask me out. 'til then, ima continue sitting around my apartment half dressed with my head in the clouds, pretending this is normal. HEY EZRA KOENIG, WANNA KNOW WHY I THINK WE SHOULD GO STEADY?

reasons why i wanna date ezra koenig:

1) he could tell me who really gives a fuck about an oxford comma
2) i could borrow one of his polo shirts and take a piss on it
3) make-out seshes with a human japanime character, duh
4) he could introduce me to the discovery dudes and i could tell them how much i enjoyed the song 'orange shirt'
5) he could explain to me the relevance of 'the hills' and provide me with speidi's back story since i have no fucking clue what's going on there
6) he's usually sporting some pretty sweet shades
7) i could tell the town of argyle i'm dating a black guy.
8) we could go to rehab at debonair and i'd be even more hip than hollywood holt
9) i seriously can't stand his childhood looks. must. pinch. those. cheeks.
10) he could sing me songs to sleep, i bet he's a big cuddler.

special delivery?

my doorbell buzzed today. i absent mindingly let whomever it was in, thinking it was the typical solicitor or someone who doesn't understand the buzzer system and just hit my button since it's the top one. INCORRECT! it was for me. it was the ups man. with a very, very special delivery for yours truly. i thought my life was already complete, but obvs i was super mistaken, b/c how could it have been before i opened up this vip envelope?? what was this super exciting package, you ask?

why, the new devo cd of course! my fave band ever! (just. kidding). i don't even really know who the fuck devo is except that trio of old dudes who wear those dumb red bucket hats and whip shit. but apparently, i was invited amongst the media blast fortunate enough to receive this hot delivery. the funniest part of the whole thing is the restricted release warning on the back of the cd envelope.

In consideration of receiving this and future promotional cds, by opening or using this cd, the authorized recipient and his/her organization ("you") agree as follows. If you do not agree, notify us at once to arraange for return of this unopened cd. Until the cd release date, this cd is to be listened to solely by the authorized recipient, adn you agree not to reproduce, transmit, distribute or otherwise make the music on this cd available to any third party. Thereafter, this cd may not be resold, but may be used in any manner consistent with copyright law. At all times, you agree to keep this cd safe from unauthorized use. The music on this cd has ben watermarked with a unique identifier that allows us to identify you as the source of any unauthorized copies. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY UNAUTHORIZED USE, REPRODUCITON, TRANSMISSION OR DISTRIBUTION OF THE MUSIC ON THIS CD.

goddamn, it's like the devo police are out to get me. makes me wanna crank it out hard-on harry style and pirate radio this shit in my attic. WHO'S UP FOR A DEVO LISTENING PARTY MOTHER FUCKERS???

hahaha. this is so gross. filing this in the tupperware junk drawer, me thinks. at least i feel cool now though that warner bros has my mailing address.

summer fucking anthem.

duuuuuuuuudez. big boi rulez. he'll be at p4k. this is good news. what's not good news is that his new album will NOT feature any collabs w/fellow homeslice andre 3000. (label politics). what IS good news is that they put some shit together in the studio anyway and it leaked online. ending result is "lookin 4 ya," a fucking tight ass synth sleek ass beat. THE summer jam. for realz. ahhhh. pumpin this shit in my underpants and bedhead, boppin my geeky ass head in my dining room office at 2:18 pm. this is the summer. this is my jam.

thank me later. (props to x-tian for the tip).

http://www.thefader.com/2010/06/08/big-boi-f-andre-3000-and-sleepy-brown-lookin-4-ya-mp3/

men i want to date : jemaine clemont

god. for this particular gent i could post like 100 reasons why i wanna bone date him. hilarious, a geek, sexxxy, singer, aaagh. ok, so he's married too. but that can't stop a sister from rubbing one out to the idea of our holy matrimony can it? jemaine, we should totally get together and play that nintendo power pad track and field game sometime. it'd be totally aces.

reasons why i want to date jemaine clemont

1. glasses, duh
2. he'd buy me a kabab
3. if i was ever feeling self conscious, he'd be quick to assure me i'm the most beautiful girl in the room
4. i bet he's friends with aziz ansari.
5. even though our sizes are probably off a little bit, i'd still like to swap some of his clever animal t-shirts/western button-ups
6. he's like an ultra sexy younger jeff goldblum (is that possible? sexy and jeff goldblum in the same sentence? gross, right, but homeboy pulls it off)
7. awkward self-conscious boys are totally hot.
8. he'd probably give me a free copy of the 2nd season of flight of the conchords since i don't have it
9. our first names both start with j, so that'd be pretty adorbs if we were a couple, right?
10. i could finally throw away that crinkled magazine pic i've been jerking to the past year and a half and jerk to the real deal.

OMG JODI U R SO INTENSE.

I guess I should just go back to lethargic apathy or something. Not one, nor two, but three different people have told me in the last week that I'm incredibly "INTENSE." It must be the sweaty beads constantly permeating on my forehead or my narrowed cross eyed vision. Maybe it's the horse whip I tie to my side, ready to crack on the unfortunate who aren't living up to my standards at the smallest whim.

Or maybe, just maybe, people don't know me as much as they think they do.

Because guess what? I give a shit. Because I'm worth giving a shit about. And if I come across as "INTENSE" (not to get tongue in cheek or nothin, i just like to give this particular term the kanye blog caps lock treatment), it's because whatever I'm talking about or who to or whatever, means you got through the jodi barricade and found one of my few remaining nerve follicles remaining that zap my ice cold heart.

so fuck ya'll. ima be as INTENSE as i want. jus' wait til you see this girl with a pint of ben & jerry's phish food. NOW THAT SHIT IS INTENSE.

i think this will be my debut rap album title. INTENSE. (not to be confused with incense or incest, k? thnx).

my new black boyfriend.

small towns are really funny.

i just spent the last 12 hours getting caught up on old times with one of my fave people in the world who i (quite honestly) never really thought i'd see ever again. i guess special suprises do arise after all. it appears i may actually reside with my pal and it's been since 8th grade since we last rode our bicycles around the village and got up to no good.

day-time whiskey consumption, a couple pbrs and a good ole' spaghetti dinner was the perfect equation for the perfect day. so much laughing and reminiscing my belly actually aches. noone else in the world would quite understand the laffs we had, even our fellow former argylian peers. so it was nice.

the topper of it all was a random text message i received from another old pal which read, "btw, just thought you'd like to know you're the talk of argyle and word is you are dating a black guy. GASP." this makes me laugh. a lot. b/c A) i actually never have dated a "black guy," although now i really wish i was. B) how i moved out of argyle some 9 years ago but am the "talk of the town" is beyond me. C) where the fuck do people get their ideas? D) who gives the fuck who i date? E) doesn't anyone in argyle know they have a 'black' president?

i guess maybe someone from a-town reads this here lil blog and saw my aspirations for bedding lil wayne and assumed it for truth. MAN OH MY GOD. i need to start a rumor that i'm impregnated with lil wayne's baby. that would be the best - mostly because my mom would believe it.

at least i know i'm still relevant and a hot topic. it's sad/disgusting/horrible that people from my neck of the woods are so feable minded and idiotic, but it's also hilarious to think of these gross redneck losers yakking about me being a 'city gal' dating 'colored folk.'

ohhhh shit. regardless, today was great. remembering some silly stories and being grateful for escaping and somehow grasping sanity, a level of street smarts i didn't always have, even if that means being willing to "date a black guy."

ohhh, argyle. grow the fuck up.

men i want to date : chuck klosterman

ok, well this particular gentleman is no longer a bachelor as i learned in his latest essay collection, eating the dinosaur, but a girl can dream yes? despite his nasty gross beard and squinty eyeballs, i think this would still be a pretty memorable date.

reasons why i want to date chuck klosterman:

1. he has glasses
2. his fiction blows (like mine!)
3. it'd be a pretty entertaining argument about metal music - he - #1 fan, me - not so much
4. he sounds so damn self deprecating in his essays i just wanna give him a big bear hug
5. he reminds me of a pabst blue ribbon kinda guy
6. he would give me his honest opinion as to whether or not i should give up on this writing game
7. i bet he likes pizza
8. he looks like a sleepy sheep dog.
9. we'd probably wind up getting really drunk
10. he resembles the epitomy of nerd.

iiiieeeeeeeeee!!!!

i'm so giddy right now i could puke like a turkey vulture.

i don't really have friends from argyle anymore. BUT BUT BUT my bestest pal georgie up until 8th grade who was my neighbor but then moved to boston just texted me!! HE LIVES HERE!!!! So excited I could die. We even discussed possibly rooming together in september.

this is just the pick-me-up i needed. chicago, you ain't ready for two argylians. you. just. ain't.

millennium park in the summer is like, really fun, dudes.

so love 'em or hate 'em, she & him brought in half the goddamn city of chicago under age 35 last night at millenium park's downtown sounds series. arriving an hour early, i was fortunate enough to nab a spot on the grass towards the back big enough for my greasy wine stained sheet and 4 partners in crime to accompany me. lots o' fruit snacks, red wine, salt & vinegar chips and tacos, we were set. i wasn't really caring too much for the show itself, but moreless forcing myself to be social and whatnot.

i gotta say, though, she & him had definitely upped the ante from the last time i caught 'em at sxsw 2 years back. neither deschanel nor ward were much for banter other than a few generic, 'chicago its so great to be here's,' but that's ok. the sun was shining, the grass was green and the skies were blue. sunlight reflected off the aluminum sculpture beams and later on, as the sun set, the sky transitioned into a dark violet and orangey hue, shimmering off the chicago skyline buildings. it was pretty. the set was over an hour and i picked up on the two singles from volume 2 including that sun song (it's alright, it's ok) and thieves which is slowly growing on me. plenty of covers were accounted for including 'why do you let me stay here,' 'sentimental heart' -(sadly, without the luda version, STOP MOVIN SO SLOW I GOT MOUFS TO FEED, this track ain't as delectable as i'd like it to be) and the closer 'i put a spell on you.' as much as zoey pisses me off with her 'look at me i'm so indie and adorable but better than you'ness, girl's got pipes. a good wine buzz complimented my experience and i just gotta say i'm happy my homies got my back.

this summer's line-up looks pretty rad, though. lemme know if any of ya'lls wanna be my date for the following:

Thurs 6/10 Bassekou Koyate - 6:30 PM
Mon 6/14 Cool Kids - 12:00 PM
Mon 6/14 Great Lake Swimmers - 6:30 PM
Mon 6/21 Dosh - 12:00 PM
Mon 6/21 The Books - 6:30 PM
Mon 7/5 - Thermals - 6:30 PM
Mon 7/12 El Guincho - 12:00 PM
Mon 7/12 Caribou - 6:30 PM
Mon 7/19 High Places - 12:00 PM
Mon 7/19 Kid Sister - 6:30 PM
Mon 8/2 - VHS or Beta - 12:00 PM
Mon 8/16 - The Juan Maclean - 12:00 PM
Mon 8/16 - Lost in Trees - 6:30 PM

men i want to date : dwayne carter

anybody who knows me knows that my lifelong ambition is to get knocked up by weezy. then, money comes eezy, my baby can have grills, i'll get all the lil wayne albums/mixtapes before they're released, i'd still be free to date/get married to anyone else i want. i don't want a relationship with lil wayne, i'm not a fucktard. just bet he'd be easy to get in bed and then i wouldn't have to worry bout gettin' a job no more.

reasons why i want to date lil wayne:

1. he could rap a milli to me a milli times
2. i could be an honorary member of the cash money crew
3. i could impress him with my rendition of fireman
4. getting impregnated, thus never having to work again
5. he wants little kids to go to school and is a literacy advocate
6. he's served time. (that's hard).
7. whenever my phone would ring i'd have him answer the phone and spit rhymes to confuse people
8. free concert tickets (duh)
9. he's a martian
10. we're the same age, so i'm sure we have a lot in common.

north coast fest.

ya'll wanna go to this, me thinks. and if yer nice to me, i can hook you up.

that is all.

lurv,

jodi robin root

hopped up outta bed, turned my swag awwwwn.

holy quarter-life crisis!

today i woke up at noon (per usual). but something about the recent turn of events slapped me 'cross my lil freckled face and screamed 'HEY JODI QUIT BEING AN IDIOT AND DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS LITTLE RUT OF YOURS.'

apparently, all it takes is a pot of uber-strong coffee, very very loud hood internet mixtapes (gotta say the dance party saturday night in the pouring rain, sweating my ass off, soaking wet hair/clothing was the most therapeutical madness i've undergone in ages - plus i looked a soaking deadrat hot mess), and a shit ton of obligations to get caught up on and things are a-ok. (at least for today). Plus - screaming along overly caffeinated to talking heads 'psycho killer' is always a good release.

so now, just to remind myself. short-term goals that are A) healthy and B) easily accomplishable.

1. get a fucking j-o-b.
2. get a fucking apartment.
3. pimp the shit out of metronome and north coast fest.
4. get money.
5. write the shit outta my guts and agree to more than i can handle.
6. join some sort of athletic/fitness group. yoga? fuck that's lame but i gotta destress somehow.
7. sign up for a continuing education class at a community college. waterpainting? creative writing? arts&crafts? sign language? who gives a fuck, just something to stimulate my brainwaves.
8. stay sober.
9. eat healthy.
10. wake up in the MORNING.

so this is it. new jodi time. it's the freaking summertime and i'ma make the best outta it. plus, i got assigned the kanye review for venus when it drops so HOW DOPE IS THAT SHIT.

men i want to date : aziz ansari

this one's actually kind of (well, very) real. aziz is my homeboy. i have a page from death + taxes magazine ripped out and taped on my wall like i used to do with garbage/sublime articles in 8th grade. he's just wearing his adorable hoodie and being hilarious about diddy and twitter. *swoon*

reasons why i want to go on a date with aziz ansari:

1. i really wanna meet his little cousin harrison and talk about tnt knowing drama
2. so i could propose marriage
3. he could tell me zany tales about kanye and his stand-up routine at his party
4. i could tell him how i was the only one in the nearby crowd at sxsw in 2008 who recognized him bobbing his head on the back of the stage at the clipse show
5. he hates australians (new zealanders)
6. he wears hoodies and baggy jeans
7. i bet he'd be willing to leave me a hilarious voicemail greeting on my cell phone that would really throw off callers
8. he likes cvs
9. we could probably waste at least 7 minutes talking about the new beach house album
10. if i asked nicely, i bet he'd help me get more followers on twitter

men i want to date : method man

method man would probably be a really funny first date. i mean, think about it. how could a prim and proper young lady such as myself keep from busting out into a gigglefest sitting across from homeboy in his doo-rag and baggy jeans?

i could do it. i mean, why not? he's got a pretty good curriculam vitae.

reasons why i would go on a date with method man:

1. he and redman probably have some pretty wild parties
2. he has his own theme song
3. he probably has at least one or two biggie stories
4. he guest starred on SVU - we could share mad christopher meloni love
5. soul plane - i mean, how cool would it be to introduce a star of the movie soul plane to your parents?
6. he could help me tweak my spittin' skillz
7. i'm sure dude would always have a spare 40 for a sista
8. it'd be an excuse to have gravel-pit as a ringtone
9. i could tell him bout the time i saw him and redman in 10th grade and they asked the crowd to "show their titties" and my overweight 16 year old pal nearly did.
10. i could say i went on a date with method man.

gayngs : venus edition.

GAYNGS

Relayted (Jagjaguwar)
By Jodi Root
Published: May 14th, 2010
7:00am

If I had been asked to come up with a three-word review of Midwest’s indie super group GAYNGS’ debut album Relayted, it’d be simple: sexy bedroom beats. With a lineup more buzzworthy than a Pitchfork festival, GAYNGS’ long anticipated effort—led by Ryan Olson and Solid Gold members Zack Coulter and Adam Hurlburt—has enlisted the help of Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon and Mike Noyce, Doomtree Darlings P.O.S. and Dessa, the Rosebuds’ Ivan Howard, and Joe Westerlund, Brad Cook, and Phil Cook from Megafaun—and that’s just to name a few.

Starting as a simple side project of sexy synthed, guitar heavy melodies inspired by 10cc’s “I’m Not in Love,” GAYNGS soon evolved into a musical wet dream that seduced all who heard the rough cut of album opener “The Gaudy Side of Town” to beg for their own initiation. This opening track is one of eleven chapters in this musical romance novella, coming off like a guiltlessly hipper modern version of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper.” Totally synthed and sexed up, the seven minute gem grasps the listener with its sleek beatboxing, falsetto harmonies, smooth guitars, and haunting rhythms.

“Faded High” is another stand-out with a drugged-up hybrid of keys, smooth guitars, airy vocals, and electronic percussion. Seductively propositioning, “I want your body on me,” this jam will no doubt be responsible for an influx of unplanned hipster pregnancies. Relayted is an unexpected R&B triumph, the type of album that gets you all hot and bothered, leaving you tossing and turning in the night, wishing and hoping for inclusion, preferably in the form of an invite to “The Last Prom on Earth.”

for the fancy schmancy venus version: http://www.venuszine.com/articles/music/sounds/7067/GAYNGS

peter wolf crier : venus zine edition.

Peter Wolf Crier

Inter-Be (Jagjaguwar)
By Jodi Root
Published: May 29th, 2010
7:00am

When Peter Pisano cries wolf, everyone listens. Possibly the spring’s worst kept secret, Inter-Be, the debut full-length album from Minnesota duo Pisano and Brian Moen may not have officially hit record store shelves until May 25, but has been busy winning over fans for months since it leaked online. Thanks in part to buzz from music magazines, radio play, and the blogosphere, PWC is no secret—I first fell in love with Pisano’s falsetto vocals and charismatic showmanship earlier this spring at South by Southwest. Bursting with vocal harmonies, dusty guitars, and soft percussion, the combination of live loops and nostalgic pop rock is comparable to labelmate Bon Iver, just more upbeat and hopeful.

Overall, Inter-Be is an essential 2010 release, the ideal soundtrack for those summer backyard barbeques. From the opening chicken scratch guitar twangs in the delectably poppy “Crutch & Cane” and addicting guitar riffs and falsetto melodies of “For Now,” listeners know they’re in for something special. Additional standout tracks include the gripping “Hard as Nails,” the twangy slow jam “Down Down Down,” and perhaps the most magical two minute ditty of the year, “Untitled 101.”

While the majority of the record is easily repeatable, Inter-Be’s only fault is that it tends to drag a bit at the end. “Lion” and “Saturday Night” are merely enjoyable filler if you’re listening to the record from start to finish, but on their own, you might find your mind wandering. Some slow jams are to be expected, though, when your band’s name is Peter Wolf Crier—there’s going to be some cry for attention. The only difference is that music lovers will hardly be ignoring these cries.



with fancier formatting than my meager site: http://www.venuszine.com/articles/music/sounds/7172/Peter_Wolf_Crier

freelance whales.

Combining a dreamy blend of light percussion, folksy melodies and delectable pop vocals, Freelance Whales have arrived just in time for summer. Sure to be the ideal backyard bbq soundtrack, Weathervanes, the debut effort dropped in joint release on both Frenchkiss and Mom + Pop Records, is making quite the impression on college radio charts.


Formed in late 2008, this Queens quintet has been quite busy making a name for themselves, succeeding in nabbing a spot opening for Shout Out Louds in addition to spots with both Sasquatch and Lollapalooza music festivals amidst their following headlining summer tour. Weathervanes is a 14-song whirlwind of instrumentation, straying away from typical pop formulas with their usage of harmonium, banjo, glockenspiel, synthesizers, waterphone, bass, guitars and drums.

If The Postal Service ever traded their synthesizers for banjos, the end result would probably sound something like Freelance Whales, thanks to singer Judah Dadone’s light and airy vocals and the band’s overall optimistic dream pop vibes. Pure and free, Weathervanes is 2010’s feel good record of the year, packed full of tinkering xylophone, soaring vocal harmonies and simple, nostalgic pop melodies.

two door cinema club.

Two Door Cinema Club throws one hell of an impromptu dance party—not that I’ve ever been invited to one personally, but one can only imagine how badass this electro pop trio can get after checking their debut LP, Tourist History. From the first jittery moments of opening track “Cigarettes in the Theatre,” Two Door Cinema Club is all about explosive guitars, soaring synthwork and an ADD paced tempo.


Energetic and delectable singles “Something Good Can Work,” “I Can Talk” and “Undercover Martyn” keep the dance vibes a-flowin’, never ceasing their clap-infused, feel-good beats for a second. Thanks to garnering buzz from NME and nabbing a spot on the BBC’s Sound of 2010 Poll, 2010 is going to be Two Door Cinema Club’s year.

With comparisons ranging from Bloc Party to Death Cab for Cutie, Two Door Cinema Club falls somewhere in between, coming across as an over caffeinated version of Phoenix thanks to Alex Trimble’s light and high pitched vocal work. Clocking in just less than thirty minutes, Tourist History is a nine-track collection of dance party anthems, essential to any pop lover’s music collection.

the joy formidable.

While the majority of buzz bands may get lost in the ever disposable instant gratification of digital downloading and overhyped blog posts, some things turn out to actually be worth the wait. Wales-bred trio The Joy Formidable is a perfect example. While they dropped their debut in Japan and the UK earlier last year, we are finally getting our first flirtation States side with this upbeat indie-pop sensation. Garnering praise from the likes of NME and Pitchfork, The Joy Formidable is the first band signed on Black Bell Records, the label started by past tour mate Ayad Al Adhamy of Passion Pit.


It’s tough to cover all the bases of what makes “A Balloon Called Moaning” so incredible. Razor sharp guitars, thumping bass lines and singer Ritzy Brian’s refreshing, airy girly vocals are all obvious contributing factors – but while this trio's guitar-bass-drums lineup may be among the more traditional in rock, they manage to pull it together so much tighter than their current indie-pop peers. The perfect summer soundtrack, this 8-track EP is sure to earn a permanent spot in your regular rotation with such stand-out tracks as the energetic and demanding single “Whirring,” the epic melodic build-up in album opener “The Greatest Light is the Greatest Shade,” and the bass pounding, falsetto chorus infused “Austere.”

Shimmery and sexy, “A Balloon Called Moaning” is a booty-shaking musical novella from start to finish. Find out for yourself why Alternative Press deemed The Joy Formidable as one of “the bands to watch out for in 2010” and you certainly won’t regret it.

1.4 Writing Inventory

while digging in my closet to find an old video i made for my first college video course (psa of men needing "escorts" in the all girls dorm), i found something else instead. a bulky, vanilla folder of all my old high school and junior high writing compositons. i also found my old journalism assignments, my pre-production binder and my film term paper final - "Horatio Alger & John Hughes: The Masks of Teenage Popularity and Socal Issues" - Race, Class & Gender in American Film. God, I was really bad at writing. (Like, really bad).

What cracked me up the most, though - since I don't have time to flip through every ridiculous composition I re-discovered, (Including such classics as the horror short story "The Shreet" (complete with illustrations), "Irony," (basically a 20 page story about a girl killing herself in outerspace), "The Shopping Fairy and Her Bar Code," the history of the barbie doll and several cringe-worthy papers), was an assignment.

Anybody who knows me knows my handwriting BLOWS. But this sheet of paper was some paper, I'm guessing in 8th grade or somewhere along there. It's titled 1.4 Writing Inventory. These are the questions, and my scribbled pencil answers.

1. When you are given a writing assignment, how do you approach it?
(Circle One)
(My Choice) A. I look forward to it.
B. I don't know how to begin.
C. I'm sure I will fail.
D. With a feeling I can do ok.

2. What are your major strengths as a writer?
When writing, I have a creative imagination and can think of numerous ideas.

3. What weaknesses do you have in writing?
My handwriting isn't perfect and I have trouble finishing stories.

4. Describe one of the most interesting writing assignments you've ever been asked to do. Why did you find it interesting?
Last year when we did autobiographies, becuase I got to share and write about past experiences.

5. What is the worst writing assignment you can recall having?
Having to write an ending chapter to a book we read, we had to finish the story (no period)

What made it so terrible?
I have problems writing endings to stories and I liked the original ending that the author wrote.

6. Have you ever kept a journal? yes Do you keep a journal or diary now? yes If so, explain how you began and what it means to you.
I began a couple years ago and I write in my diary to express my deepest thoughts or emotions.

7. How do you define good writing?
I define good writing correctly (like capital letters, punctutation.) Also having creative ideas that make the story interesting, not like one boring topic (no period)


Obviously, my likes/dislikes/strengths and weaknesses have not progressed much since junior high. I like how I define good writing, especially when I used incorrect punctuation twice in the same sentence.

saturday nite dance party.

VS.

anybody wanna see a sweaty redhead lose her shit? cuz that's what ima be on saturday. do division is back this year, but there's quite a predicament. my boys from hood internet are getting bigger than their britches, bein busy touring the u-s-of-a for the better part of the year, resulting in less chicago hometown dance parties. they're headlining the damen stage saturday at 8:30. normally this would be like, yesssssssss, i'm there, nobrainer, whatever. cuz hood's off he hook and i lose my shit everytime i shake my ass to their mashup beats.

BUTTTTTTT.

yacht is co-headlining, same night, same time, same fest. YACHT. anybody who knows me knows these two are my shit. i've seen em like 4 times now and they're super rad, always a great show, super fun dance party.

considering hood's newest shit is kinda mehhhhhh, i may have to go see yacht. but, hood's my boys and i'm a devotee. so i dunno what to do. and my girls are all outta town for the wknd, thus, i am lacking dance party partner in crimes.

who wants to be my date? i'll wear a short skirt and give you a beer. (seeyousoon-dot-com).

hov is gettin' ultra lame.

uhhhhhh. white parties with white bitches. ultra, ultra, ultraaaaaaaa.

dude, wtf? yer usually so consistent with droppin dopeass jams but this shit is just full of space lazers, abrasive whistles and too much ultra'in shout-outs. kinda feel like i stumbled into jay-z's personal arcade (and then finding out that he doesn't own ms. pacman - so obvs, underwhelmed and annoyed).

maybe it's a grower? (doubt it.)

http://stereogum.com/396341/jay-z-ultra-feat-swizz-beatz/mp3s/

yo jay,
you are so not crazy for this one. bring me some more pimpn and bitches, pleez. thnx.
luv,
jodi

2004 was my year.

not to get all sentimental/nostalgic on this thing, but as i stated previously, writing is theraputic and a nice outlet for me. plus, there's only so many sleigh bells posts i can throw up in one week.

today i cannot stop thinking. so to avoid worrying about things out of my control, or getting worked up on certain social situations/familial dramabullshit, i'm going to avoid thinking on my yesteryear. 2004 was a pretty good year. a lot of personal growth, attributed mostly, to my soundtrack of the time.

this sounds cliche and lame, but there were several memorable releases that shaped me that were either released/discovered in tthis timeframe.

yeah yeah yeahs - fever to tell

a lot of music reminds me of someone or something or some experience. sometimes it's good and i can't help but smile (tessa and reggie and the full effect, freshman year). other times it really bums me out and reminds me of old break-ups or sorrows (shout out louds, "very loud"- break-up; wallflowers, "one headlight" - my grandma's passing). when i'm really bummed or stressed out, i strive to find the ultimate "jodi" album. the one where i can listen, front to back, and maybe remember when i listened to the album back in its heyday, but not be reminded of other people or situations. an album for me. of me. just so i can remember me and noone else. not sure if this makes sense, but believe me, if you try to flip through your ipod and find a song/album/artist you can enjoy without some sort of connection/memory, it's trickier than you'd think.

this album is it for me. the yeah yeah yeahs may have taken a turn in their artistic direction since their debut, but i ain't mad at em. 'fever to tell' is the one album, front to back, where i can feel sentimental without any attached personal romance (as i was perpetually single in 2004) - "modern romance/hidden track." i can feel empowered, fuck you in your face, sexy and alive - "y control". i can jump around my apartment sans caffeine or pants, screaming at the top of my lungs and not giving a shit if anyone walks in on me (well, 'cept maybe carrie b/c she's never seen me in my underpants), - "Date with the night," "rich."

BOY YOU'RE JUST A STUPID BITCH AND GIRL YOU'RE JUST A NO GOOD DICK. - black tongue. i mean, seriously. karen o yelping, shrieking, moaning, having hot sex with her microphone. this album is almost surely effective in transitioning my mood from blah to what-the-fuck-ever. and the greatest part is that it's not attached to another single living soul. just me, being me, not giving a shit, and doing what i do. plus, it kicks ass and it's fun to play really really loud until my subwoofer shakes my dining room floorboards.

i wanna be karen o when i grow up.

kanye west - college dropout

ok, so maybe the obsession didn't fully evolve until 2008, but i had many-a girly dance parties on my old madison crew's coffee table to 'all falls down,' 'kanye's work out plan' and 'through the wire." more of a guilty part-time pleasure, i didn't own any of kanye's full-length albums at the time of his debut release, but it was the beginning of my longest love affair with any man to date. when a newfound pal in 08 assured me liking hip-pop was not only ok, but awesome, i quickly caught up where i had left off with my old girly crew in the dairy state. i love kanye. this album, though, is still my fave. maybe 'good ass job' can change that come september.

george bush doesn't like black people.

elliott smith - from a basement on the hill

i didn't know much about mr. smith until after his passing. i knew he contributed some tracks to the good will hunting score, although i didn't know any of them by name or anything. i remember very clearly working the front desk of clemens hall, my old dorm at uw-oshkosh, being very bored. staring at the computer screen. seeing a mention on stereogum or somewhere, that elliott smith had died. i looked him up. i felt sad. didn't know why. a few months or however long later, i received his post-humous album, from a basement on the hill, at wrst. it came from a pretty consistent promoter, so i threw it in the disc changer in my old office immediately. from the haunting string opening, moving into the percussion build-up and epic instrumentation, i was crying before he even started singing. this sounds lame as fuck, i know. but believe me, i was not hip in 2004. i was an out of place wisconsinite who listened to saves the day and rx bandits. i didn't know what hipsters were. (truthfully, i even made one of my advanced radio pieces about the upcoming trend of "scenesters," describing them as the "kids too cool to wear a band t-shirt to the show." i interviewed members of motion city soundtrack for this piece. that's how hip i was).

the pain in his lyrics. in his song. his vocals. the instrumentation. bare and simple, yet epic and unforgettable. "a distorted reality is now a necessity to be free." "pretty (ugly before)." "a fond farewell." "king's crossing." (i can't prepare for death anymore than i already have.)

god, even thinking about these songs. and how much of an impact they made on me. and how many tears i shed. again - not attached to any person in particular, or even for the deceased songwriter, just the emotions that accumulated. no reason, really. just sad, empty, loneliness. i had recently gotten over a serious bout with depression and anxiety that took me across the state and two years of medicated therapy to overcome. while i wasn't a heroin addict like elliott, i could relate to the feeling of emptiness and the need to just feel, something, anything. it was theraputic to know that i wasn't alone, well, in the emotional sense i guess. shortly after listening to 'from a basement. . .' on repeat for the next 6 months, i eventually picked up the remainder of his catalogue. while 'figure 8,' 'xo,' 'either/or,' 'new moon,' 'roman candle' and his self-titled are all impeccable releases, i always wind up coming home to that basement on the hill.

i'm so "scenester" i even have two tats semi-dedicated to the dude.

the arcade fire - funeral

my friend seth wasn't even promoting this record at his label, but after we became buddy buddy on our weekly phone chats, he sent me a few burned discs he personally recommended. dude introduced me to annie, the knife, de la soul and most importantly, the arcade fire. i had heard a few tracks here and there from 'funeral' and at first was bored. dude's voice was wavy and off kilter. the music was accordians and not really my thing. but then, i realized this shit was bigger than that. neighborhood 3? how can one deny that intro, it's fast tempo, marbly vocals, xylophone/accordian/string sections. neighborhood 2? perfect shower shout-along, LAAAAAAAAAAIKA! wake up - well, we all know it was so catchy that spike jonez caught on 5 years later. rebellion (lies), however, is where i lost my shit. this is another album that is for jodi. sometimes i remember how i introduced my ex-beau to it and it was one of the few agreeable discs to play for long car rides, but really, it was mine. that blank burned cd. thanks, seth. i don't know where you are these days since gym class heroes broke up unless you're still band manager for that shit, but thanks for introducing me to funeral. this shit makes me happy, hopeful and back in my shower in 2004 on 715 wright street, oshkosh, wisconsin. not such a bad place or time.

plus, i vaguely remember smoking a mystery joint and sipping on some whiskey at central park watching this 12-member outfit rock the park stage, complete with david bowie on hand for the encore.

if only life was still that amazing.

jimmy eat world - futures

at first, i was over jimmy eat world. bleed american was the shit. clarity was the album you were supposed to like the most, and eventually i almost did, but when i heard a new one was coming out, i had just exited my "emo/punk" stages and was embarassed to admit my former love for these pop superstars. this changed, though, after the third or so listen to this record. this record isn't really a collection of singles, persay. i don't think i could really enjoy each track individually as much as i enjoy listening to the album from front to back completion, but when i do have 46 or so minutes, this is a good visit to the past. unfortunately, its' not a jodi album, it's a former dude album, but i have been able to remove myself from that time to the point where listening to this album is just an enjoyable glimpse of the time before. i had the record before the ex-boyfriend. i was really, really happy in 2005, so those memories are good ones. like looking in a photo album before all pictures transitioned to digital formats.

"i always believed in futures. i hope for better, (in november)." oh, mr. jimmy eat world, you are so deep.

please quit making overproduced shit now and go back to simple pop ditties, thanx.

modest mouse - good news for people who love bad news

if i ever have to introduce music to people of another ethnicity or another species from another planet. i think this album should be a crucial educational text. this album, from start to finish, is one of the most solid albums i've ever owned and if i need to explain why to you, you should go directly to a record store (or online) and find out for yourself, right. now. isaac brock is cool. even when he's fucked up on drugs. and making albums that aren't as tight (see, 09's noone's first and you're last). who cares. dude knows how to make a catchy track you don't need to feel embarassed about. can't wait to catch em at p4k this july. i really hope they play 'the ocean breathes salty' or 'the view'. then i can just shut my eyes, move my feet, shake my hair and scream marbly along with brock, and feel alright.

this would be a jodi album, although it takes me to a different time. summer of 2004 in wisconsin dells. residing in the extinct trailer 8. (trailer 8 is great!) where i could see the grass below the rusted/rotted hole in the bathroom by the toilet. i'd stare at the wildlife below every time i peed, praying a centipede wouldn't crawl in. this was probably my favorite summer of wisconsin dells. i remember my old friend nikki and i driving to borrow her dad's truck to move my furniture in oshkosh on our day off. cranking this album full blast, shouting along to 'float on,' arms flailing out the windows, knowing a long day was ahead but that our youthful states would get everything completed on time to return to our trailers on time for the night ski show. smoking cigarettes and pulling beer bongs in the picnic concrete courtyard between our trailers. climbing on the roofs. a hell of a lot of miller lite, hamms and pepsi. petey pablo. 50 cent posters. doritos. video camera. trips to walmart. and always, modest mouse bumping in the background.

i wish more than anything, i could get those friendships with nikki and kelly and days of my happy youth back.

revisitng this album isn't a bad consolation prize, though.

reggie & the full effect - greatest hits '84-'87 (re-issue)

ok, so this album had been released a few years prior to 04 initially. but i'll never forget the day the re-issue arrived at my office at wrst. i opened the package and screamed in glee! there were a few additional bonus tracks, and it was polished up a bit, but it was mine! and reminded me of my freshman year at uw-riverfalls, drunkenly shouting and singing along with tessa and quinn to these quirky key-heavy pop punk tracks. 'girl, why'd you run away,' 'your girlfriend hates me,' 'another runaway song,' and 'your boyfriend hates me' are hardly deep meaningful tracks, but they sure are fun as fuck to sing super loud and dance around in your underpants to. crooning to my cat, mostly. but if tessa or quinn were here, you're damned tooting they'd get a special lapdance tribute.

fiona apple can kiss my black ass.

tegan and sara - so jealous

i didn't listen to this album as much as i should have when it first arrived at wrst. but after a little prodding and encouragement from a certain promoter, i decided to give it a go. these lesbian canuck twins had strange haircuts and high pitched voices, singing into their acoustic guitars and keyboards about heartbreak, loves lost and jealousy. as a human being with a vagina, naturally, i could relate. and this album became my all-time 'i hate boys' anthem album. total vaginafest at its best, so jealous ignited a life-long relationship with their tunes. while this record doesn't necessarily count as my fave t&s record, (maybe 'if it wasn't you'? or 'the con'?), it's pretty solid and awesome. i even devoted my film pre-production final project to creating the music video for 'you wouldn't like me.'

i still have the hand drawn stick person tegan and sara drawings on neon construction paper in my closet.

i'm a really, really good illustrator.

now i think i need to revisit these, but maybe i'll start back in 2003 while i'm reminscing, i haven't checked 'give up' for a while now. the postal service always brings back memories. . .