the kind that are only sorta hot, so they don't mess around with other guys

Just another periodic PoBaL review clearing house. Book reviews coming soon.

Silver Jews in Columbus, March 25.
My damn cheap digital camera apparently ate all the pictures I took at the show, which = lame.
This was a great show. In any other (non-B&S-seeing) month, this would be the best show I'd seen in awhile. But it feels pretty stupid to say something's the best in the past 2 weeks, so let's just forget all that, shall we?
They played lots of stuff, including a song by Cassie Berman, who's got an amazing voice and was wearing a really great velvet dress. I looked on flickr for pictures, but no one had any up yet. I wasn't even disappointed by the lack of room renting song.
And I had a PBR in a bottle, and wondered why I don't more often. Not even comparible (-able?) to PBR in a can...
This was a good weekend in general, what with a visit to the more-and-more internet popular Tiff, the discovery of a good record store, and H&M insanity.
I also took a picture outside the Chipotle we had lunch in on Sunday.

TransAmerica
A very good movie. Shitty popcorn, but a good movie. Sweet and funny, and with lots of shirtless shots of the male-hustler-pretty son. And a surprisingly attractive dirty hippie.

The Contrast Forget to Tell the Time
My favorite record stores are ones with lots and lots of listening stations. Because I don't tend to read about music, or keep up on what I'm supposed to like, I have the most success finding new cds I like when I can listen to parts of them. I try out a few song intros, see what the singing sounds like, listen to a chorus or 2, and then I can usually tell if I should buy it or not.
Even after using this method AND praise from the would-have-been-cute-if-beardless clerk (quoth Tiff: "Maybe they can, like, smell it on you that you made out with one of them."), this album was a bit of a disappointment. At its best, I felt like I could have been on an date with Duckie, Randy, or Fred Bailey. (Yes, I looked up the male characters' names in Valley Girl. I'm procrastinating here.) You know, in the clubs where bands are playing and perfectly audible conversations with cute new wave boys happen simultaneously? I always wanted to go to one of those clubs. In real life, however, my hearing sucks and I get shirty if anyone tries to talk to me while the band is playing anyway.
At it's worst, I was reminded of the crap I listened to in the very early 90s (Gin Blossoms and such), with ham-fisted lyrics. Really, I think my biggest complaint is with the lyrics, and the singer's voice sometimes getting all irritatingly emotive.
Mostly, it reminded me of The Smithereens, which is never a bad thing.

Arctic Monkeys Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not
What if social groups were like on "trendy" PBS and Nickelodeon kids shows, where every peer group includes a representative from every demographic?
If they were, the Mike Skinner of A Grand Don't Come For Free and the Arctic Monkeys would be buddies. This album has the same feel, but a different sound.
Let me try this again:
If there's a bar somewhere in England where a beautiful rich girl chats up Jarvis Cocker for a trip to the supermarket (I don't see anyone else there smiling.), the Arctic Monkeys are working on taking her moderately attractive, drunk-off-her-ass friend home.
And not quite succeeding.
And getting pissy about it.
And then forgetting all about her by closing time.
I would've bought this at the kickass Dayton record store Tiff took me to, but I already had the library's copy in my new white purse and would've felt silly with 2.

The Deathray Davies The Kick and the Snare
Continuing the Smithereens, Son of Nuggets, etc. trend, I was a bit reminded of that with this record, too. Mostly the song "In Circles" felt a bit like "Cigarette", which is a damn fine song.
This is much more power-poppy, though--also a good thing. Actually, a great thing.
Isn't it always the way, that when you buy one new cd and one used cd, you like the used one better?