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04.28.06 All my life, I have endured people who insist on using my last name as a first name. Where ever I go, hallways are inevitably filled with "hey Streeter!" or "what's up Streeter?". I've never understood it ("Chris" is much faster to say, not as common as it was earlier part of my life, and, you know, my first name). But I've come to accept it, even to find it endearing, if not a little locker-room. (Funny then that I get it equally from girls as I do from boys.) Anyway, imagine my surprise at discovering a guy who has my last name as his first name. Somehow, I don't think people use his last name as his first name. At least they shouldn't. # 04.27.06 Starting today, I'm on an all-Coachella diet. I've loaded the iPod up with only artists appearing this weekend, a list which suddenly and stealthily includes Kanye West. A few I'm really excited about are Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah, Gnarls Barkley, The Juan Maclean, Massive Attack, Sleater-Kinney, My Morning Jacket, and TV On The Radio. I'm more than a little curious about The Rakes and Editors. But I'm hoping for an explosive surprise performance, like The Rapture two years ago. The best things are always the least expected. # 04.24.06 The album begins with "Don't Stop Believin,' " a song that just may have magical properties within its opening piano signature. Seriously, lock yourself in a room right now and listen to that keyboard part 35 times in a row. Sick of it yet? If you said yes, then you're a filthy liar. If I didn't hate Journey so damn much, I might be willing to make the argument that this article at SFGate celebrating the 25th anniversary of Journey's album ESC4P3 is one of the best pieces of music writing ever. In fact it's not, but it really really wants to be, and I say A for effort. # 04.19.06 Mark Cuban thinks tv commercials should be live again. I don't disagree. # 04.15.06 I had a few days off after I left my old job and before my new one started. Not much time, especially since there was a trip plopped down in-between the two. But after I'd spent my first free day sitting on my ass, it wasn't hard to say yes to almost anything when Kate and Jen called with the offer of free tickets to see a sold out noisepop show. There were a few bands playing at the Independent that evening, and I was marginally interested in seeing The National. Jen wanted to go to see Mark Eitzel, the author of her ultimate breakup album. I didn't make the initial connection to realize that this was the singer from American Music Club. Not that I would have cared, if I had realized it. I bought an American Music Club album last year, their latest (Love Songs For Patriots) and except for one song that I never really listened to again, I didn't fall in love with it. You know how sometimes you can't imagine how you could be so wrong about something? Hearing Eitzel's heavy, slightly off-key voice, his raspy speaking vocal style, being right there within it's reach changed the music for me. Performing mostly his own solo music, throwing in a few of the best songs off the latest AMC album, the man had me captivated. The same thing happened to me with the Pixies; sometimes you need to be within reach of a band's magic to truly understand what they're trying to convey. # 04.14.06 Michael P. has posted some pictures from Evan's passover dinner. He made us sit Jew, Gentile, Jew, Gentile. Favorite moment? Searching for the matzah. richard found it. # 04.13.06 A few things seen around the internet this morning:
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