Originally Published via the old filters / new light newsletter on March 29, 2022
Loose Fur – Laminated Cat
Static. Weird droning noise. Spoons clacking? Bongos beating? A guitar in the distance. Synths. An electric piano and–I know that voice. No, it couldn’t be Jeff? Jeff Tweedy. Of Wilco fame. Ah, the contented excitement of stumbling upon a side project you didn’t know existed.
True Wilco fans will scoff at me for my ignorance of Tweedy’s Loose Fur (which features the percussive insights of Wilco’s Glen Kotche and the noise rock sensibilities of Sonic Youther Jim O’Rourke). That’s fine. You can’t be omniscient of every band, and it can fun to be partially ignorant of the greats. That just means there’s more to explore.
Spoon – Wild (Live in Los Angeles)
This isn’t a Spoon fan blog the author assures himself, as he posts another cut from the same live show he posted a mere month prior, to be followed by uncritical gushing adoration, bordering on the obsessed for the border state’s best. This isn’t a Spoon fan blog. He sips a Tecate with lime. Maybe he should move to Austin, he wonders.
Vundabar – Lore
Boston’s own Vundabar, masters of the chill-indie-rock-drop, treat us to a cut off their upcoming April release, Devil For The Fire. They have a special talent for creating urgency in a relaxed environment; utility songs suitable for an indie house party or an indie porch kickback. Just as long as it’s an indie crowd.
Zero 7 – Don’t Call it Love (12” Version)
While attending to my Monday night ritual–eating a CAVA pita after bench pressing and sauna sitting (a man needs structure above all else)–the seemingly self-appointed janitor of the fast-casual Mediterranean joint confronted a patron who had filled a water cup with soda. The janitor, now self-deputized, made the man (who claimed to have left his wallet in his car) leave his food and drink in-store while he retrieved the absent wallet. The man came back but did not want to pay for the stealth soda. Janitor, taller and more tatted than our thief, yet lankier, leaned menacingly on his mop and scary-eyed the soda man into submission.
An anti-climax, so I thought, until my sweet tooth forced me to stop by a 7-11 on the way home where I witnessed an older man go into near psychosis over lotto tickets. I exited with my Toblerone to find him sitting in an Massachusetts Institute of Technology Facilities pick-up truck out front.
Unsure of what any of these events meant I rode home. “Don’t Call it Love” greeted me when I got back to safety.
Spirit of the Beehive – mantra is repeated
And speaking of ritual, the only time I seem to be able to meditate is in the sauna. It’s better than nothing, sure, but I have a lingering fear that my obituary will read “cooked medium rare under surprisingly low amounts of stress.”
They say it’s good for circulation.
It’s comical how much of our societal progress this century is just going to be undoing the last 100 years of development, a modern Renaissance if you will:
Also notice how the rates of walk/bike commuting drop off as income rises until the highest income levels where we see slight increases. On one hand, non-auto commuting is a necessity while on the other it is a luxury. Reminds me of those rich versus wealthy straw-man scenarios: the rich man drives his big car to work to show off his status, the wealthy rides his bike for the health benefits.
Some Tier 1 satire from Reductress:
Finally, a Globe opinion piece on facial recognition surveillance in Massachusetts. The writers praise a recent special legislative commission which released a report with recommendations on the proper use of the technology in municipal law enforcement. Most importantly, to me at least, was that the commission recommended that a warrant based on probable cause be required any time “an unidentified or unconfirmed individual in an image has committed a felony” before permitting a facial recognition search
Basically, if a disgruntled MIT employee burglarizes a 7-11 and is caught on camera, the police have to get a judge to sign off on using facial recognition to identify the man.
A good guardrail, but given the history of judges (especially in national security matters) acting as rubber stamps for cops to execute searches, I’m of the opinion that facial recognition should be banned outright. Let’s delay dystopia as long as possible.
“Sunrise in Dublin” by @amelia.melanson
“No old filters, no new light!” by @jmullane27
“Sunset on Fresh Pond” by myself