Confessions Of A Fan Who Hates Michael Jackson

I am writing this blog not to join the worldwide sympathy on the death of the so-called King of Pop. While the music fan in me is saddened by his death (please see previous blog), I will not be spreading false saccharine sentiments as a salute and last respect to him.



This is my tribute to him...told in the brutal honesty of a fan who hates the other side of him. You may not agree with what I say but this is how I perceived the man, the legend. And his death will not change that. Case in point: I am NOT one of the 20+ million who made Thriller the best-selling album of all time.

Since news of his death broke out last Friday, radio has been flooded with requests to play his songs. I have heard Gone Too Soon, Heal The World and Will You Be There more times in the past two days than in the last five years.

I decided to join this historic moment and reminisce his glory through his songs. I know I have his limited-edition 2-disc greatest hits HIStory CD but it has been passed around by my friends. So I got my trusty iPod and searched by artist to Michael Jackson. Only one song came up...Wanna Be Startin' Somethin’, the 2008 version featuring Akon and Fergie which was re-recorded in time for the 25th anniversary of Thriller last year.




This confused me because I know I have tons of Michael Jackson songs on my iPod. And then it hit me. I have his songs, but not HIS version. There are indeed a lot of them... from the recent big hits (Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Farm and Beat It by Fallout Boy feat. John Mayer)... to the live unreleased performances (the recent American Idol performances or Man in The Mirror by Usher, 98 Degrees and the late Luther Vandross)... to the local versions (Kyla with One Day in Your Life).

How did this happen? At some point I got tired of the man but not his songs. It was almost blasphemy to listen to his voice and it seems tantamount to supporting the life he led lately.

Let’s put it this way. In terms of MJ appreciation and fanaticism, I am at the halfway house. As I said, I am somewhere between a fan and a hater. I am in deep awe and I have the highest regard for his music and his influence to the entertainment world. But not necessarily of MJ as a person and what he represents.

I said I will be honest. With all due respect to Michael Jackson, I have laughed at the freakshow that he has become and I have used him as a pop-culture punchline countless times. I LOL-ed at the jokes saying he was included in the casting of Planet Of The Apes. I have called him a looney and a weirdo (those who have not are welcome to throw stones at me). I have said many a time that he was a fool to let his personal life tarnish his artistic legacy. For in the past years, all we heard about him are his personal and legal troubles. His music and artistry took the backseat. Which is ironic because if not for his music, then we wouldn’t have known he existed.

Hands down, he was the greatest musical icon of my growing-up years. The Beatles were gone before my musical consciousness was awakened. I was only 5 years old when he released Thriller so I was too young then to realize MJ's impact and the fanatical adoration rivalled only by Pope John Paul II. But growing up, I never knew the New Wave sound of the 80’s. As a kid, ask me to name an old song and, chances are, I will recite the songs from Thriller.

Other than his greatest hits CD, the only CD I have of MJ is Invincible from 2000. It spawned one hit (You Rock My World) and I bought it on sale but I can’t remember ever listening to the CD in its entirety. But I do remember one beautiful unreleased track from that CD – Butterflies.





Friends have asked me what my favourite MJ song is. I’ll have to say Human Nature and Man In The Mirror for the mainstream choices. But for obscure hits, I’d say Scream (his duet with Janet)...the energy of this song gives me a natural high. On the other end of the spectrum, I cringe at You Are Not Alone (the first song in history to do the unthinkable: enter the charts at #1). The lyrics are way too clichéd and cheesy and there is an excess of that MJ-signature hiccup-y sound or whatever you call it.

Michael Jackson thrived in the 80’s, an era of musical relevance and artistic movement. The artists from that era (Madonna included) created a world of their own. They set such high standards for today’s music. From then on, the artists we saw were mostly copycats or confused morphs of each other, as if they came from one lacklustre factory. They gave pop music a bad name. Think Britney and Celine Dion, who despite amassing huge hits, will never be called musical geniuses. For the mere fact that they don’t own their music.

Whereas Michael not only made his own music but he made music his own. The ultimate proof of MJ’s musical genius is that you can’t ruin his songs. Any artist...from Mariah Carey (I’ll Be There) to the videoke singer on the street can sing it and it will sound spectacular. He does not have the best vocals (in facts his vocals of late is whiny and wheezy) but he knows how to best use what he has. Like a true-blue artist, he knew how to differentiate himself and created his signature style. He was the male trendsetter; the fads he created are innumerable and enduring. His name and style are now priceless trademarks (note that I did not use past tense).

Hence, the kids of today’s music bear his blueprint and salute him... whether subtly (red Thriller jacket in Mandy Moore’s Crush video or the gloved hand-movement in Destiny Child’s Bootylicious video)... or blatantly (Justin Timberlake's falsetto and crotch-grabbing moves).



For all we know, the trademark he created might shine brighter in death than in life. I know only one other artist who has this all-consuming and lasting influence. Elvis Presley.



I know there is more to MJ than the musician. We have heard of his humanitarian work and drive to make this world better through his eye-opening songs like Earth Song. But, considering his much-publicized personality and choices in life, I cannot shake off the fact that these were brought about by some personal agenda. After all, he is a social study in over-indulgence, idiosyncrasy and narcissism. He became the poster boy for the dreaded rise-and-fall in the entertainment industry. But sadly, unlike Mariah Carey, there won’t be any emancipation... no huge comeback for the king. Except maybe post-humus.

People may say that he is a victim of media and bad publicity, but I will have to say that somehow he fed this machinery (remember the child dangling off the balcony?). He fanned the embers until it became an inferno which consequently burned the image of the consummate artist that the world knew and embraced.

But we need not dwell on that. His life maybe the ultimate E! True Hollywood Story but his achievements and contribution in music and the arts will forever be engraved in the annals of world history. He gave the backbone that defined pop music and his death cannot change that. The scandals and the lawsuits will soon run its course but his music will not. Years from now our grandchildren will still moonwalk and dance to Thriller. And we will smile and remember one of the greatest man who ever lived.

Ironically, the man who so craved for immortality never realized that he had it all along: his music will live on.

Love him or hate him, we all fell under his spell. The legacy left by the King of Pop is...to use his words...neither black nor white. It is permanent grey.

- Copyright B. Crisostomo @ www.barnieboi.blogspot.com.

The King Is Gone (RIP, MJ)

News does travel fast these days.

It’s just past 6 in the morning.

One moment I was blogging and tweeting and the next moment everyone is tweeting the sad news.

I got it via tweets from Ryan Seacrest, Mandy Moore, Chris Daughtry, Ashton and Delamar: Michael Jackson just passed away due to cardiac arrest.

Gone too soon? Quite ironic, I know.


(This is the cover for his now-aptly-titled single)

I just hope his detractors will stop the hatred and remember his unparalleled contribution to the industry.

And not so long ago...Farrah Fawcett also breathed her last. To the younger generation who may not know her, she was one of the original Charlie’s Angels. RIP.



Two icons...two legends in one day.

The lights must be half-dimmed in Hollywood.

***

Just a breather from these sad news. Trust Borat for the comic relief.

He just tweeted: Death comes in threes, first Farrah then Michael Jackson..lets finish on a high note with perez!!

He was referring to recent entertainment headlines on the violent fight between celeb gossip blogger Perez Hilton and Black-Eyed Peas. What can I say...Boom boom pow!

Not politically correct I know, but you can't help but admire Borat's wisecracks.

I also liked John Mayer's version of this news: Dazed in the studio. A major strand of our cultural DNA has left us. RIP MJ

I see a Michael Jackson tribute album on the horizon.

Transformed (When Exhaustion Meets The Eye)

I was lucky enough to be thrown some tickets to the special screening of Transformers 2: Revenge of The Fallen (thanks to M and R). And lucky enough to have a meeting at Gateway so I was there in time for the screening.




Bad luck smiled at me when there was already a loooong queue at Cinema 3. So we ended up being seated at the second row. Stupid Adidas placed markers on the seats that we thought the other seats were reserved for Adidas sponsors. It was only later that we realized that almost all the seats have the Adidas logos. Really poor and shameful marketing ploy!

Ten minutes into the movie, I started feeling dizzy. Because I was too close to the screen! Why oh why, can’t they start the seats a comfortable distance away from the screen? Tsk, tsk.

Twenty minutes into the movie and I wanted to puke. No kidding. So there were times when I had to close my eyes to quell the dizziness. I think I ended up sleeping in intervals. I would only wake up or open my eyes when I hear Megan’s voice. Or when there is a really loud and theatre-shaking explosion.

I won’t write a full review yet coz most people are not as lucky as me to watch it on the first day (yabang!). But over-all the movie is great, especially for a sequel. You can tell that Michael Bay and company placed some real effort into making it.

In fact they kinda overdid it in parts. It was visually exhausting and indulgent. You are not allowed to feel anything because you are bombarded with fight scenes after fight scenes after fight scenes. So all the robots started to look the same (or was it because of where I was seated?). Also, to kiss-ass to its female audience, Transformers 2 delivered cheese like a Greenwich Pizza. Apparently Shia was not enough for progesterone magnet.

Things to watch out for: Megan’s boobies, Megan’s thighs and Megan’s tight pants that amazingly remain spotlessly white in the Egyptian desert (expect that on Home TV Shopping soon...Amazing White-Everytime Pants). Shia’s huge nose. The Fray’s new song played during the cheesy moments (what is this, Grey’s Anatomy?).

J said Josh Duhamel looked liked a more manly Ryan Seacrest. And she is right! I expected Josh to say “Dim the lights...the Decepticons are here” anytime.

So that’s my two cents for now. Maybe I’ll try to catch it again…with better seats this time.

Oh...here’s the other movie I can’t wait to see:

My Name Is...

I know my name is far from unique. If I will take that Facebook How Unique Is Your Name Quiz, I will perhaps get a 5% score.

But my name has evolved over the years to the point that if someone calls me, I can tell from which point of my life he/she came from.

Elementary and HS school mates would call me by my legal name. College friends will just use two letters to call me or a name that sounds like beige. Colleagues, on the other hand, summon me like I am a purple dinosaur.



But lately, I have been called other names. No, not Bastard or S.O.A.B.

Last December, I was at Shangri-la doing some Christmas shopping. I decided to take a breather at Starbucks. I ordered for their cherry-something Holiday blend and waited on the side for my coffee. Several minutes passed by and the barista has not called my name. Then I noticed that all the people behind me when I ordered already had their coffees. In my most pleasant of tones, I followed up my order. I noticed a lone cup standing at the counter and asked the barista if that was a cherry concoction. She said yes and I said that could be mine. She apologized profusely. It was then that I saw the name...EDWARD.

I forgave the crew because it did sound alike and that was the height of the Twilight fever.

Today I got the new lease contract for my QC apartment. The landlord just slipped the envelope under the door. It says Unit #12...for RONALD.

I quickly checked if I had a clown-y smile, yellow-and-red costume and big shoes. I didn’t.

Just to put everyone on the same page, I am...(queue in janjararan sound)...MISUNDERSTOOD.

Haha, got you there.

Fragments #7

"Fragments" is a compilation of short blogs (blogettes?) that bear no relation to each other. Except that they came from one brilliant mind (hehe).

***



There Will Be Half-Blood

Last long weekend I finally finished reading Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince. I rushed to read it because the movie is showing weeks from now and I vowed to always read the book first before seeing the movie. I have enough brain cells to read a book and not let someone interpret it for me visually.

I won’t write a full review anymore since half of the world would have read it anyway. It was again a satisfying escape from this forlorn Muggle world into Rowling’s magical realm. Not as exciting as Prisoner of Azkaban or Goblet of Fire but definitely better than Order of The Phoenix (Book 5 was so s...l...o...w in places).

I tend to think of Half-Blood Prince as the transition book...the prequel to the great big ending. Because nothing spectacular happened...only the death of You Know Who (and I am not talking about Voldemort). The book just gave us more facts and loose ends which I expect will be tied-up in The Deathly Hollows.

I gave my Mom some theories about the ending (like Harry being a horcrux) but she just gave me a shrug. But trust my sister to drop two spoilers...she confirmed two deaths in the final book. Grrr...you D.O.H. you!

Speaking of half-blood...has anyone heard of bloodless dinuguan (a pork stew with thick sauce made from pig’s blood)? I saw it on the Kourtyard (a mid-range dining place) menu and I would have tried it had I not been anti-red meat lately. What’s next...sweet sinigang?

***

Me See The Book One Moment

It was one of those days spent away from the quiet hurly-burly of the office. In one day, I had a series of meetings in three different places. Cafes were the usual venues; as coffee is fast becoming the elixir of life.

My mind and eyes sometimes wander away from the meeting and I take in my surroundings and observe the people around. It was then that I realized that I’ve seen the same book being read by three different people in the places I’ve been to that day. Size was standard paperback, cover is minty green and I could barely read the title because it was scrawled in the unassuming penmanship of a child who had just learned to write.

Could this be the new Twilight or Harry Potter and I’ve been again left in the cold on the next literary phenomenon?

Finally my curiosity got the better of me and I stood up, walked near a couple (the guy just dropped the book and took his laptop). I pretended to be calling someone but my eyes were really aimed at reading the title of the mysterious book. It was Me Talk Pretty One Day.

I asked F is she knows the book. She didn’t. And F was a connoisseur of popular books (if ever there is one).

I couldn’t get my mind off that book and vowed to look for it the next time I visit a bookstore.

A few days later it hit me. What I saw was not the next cult bestseller. It was probably one of those books that was required reading in the academe. Classes just started after all.

Stupid me.

***

Higher Learning

So finally...with or without A(H1N1), school started in all levels last June 15.
For me, this meant a lot of things.

More traffic on the roads during rush hour.

That I will again wake up on Monday mornings to sounds of my mother bellowing at my brothers to hurry up or they will be late for school.

That I will have my turn hollering at my brothers to sleep early.

More breakfast items on the supermarket list. Longer lines at the supermarket cashiers during Sunday night.

That I will again see on top of my laptop a torn page from my brothers’ notebook with a hastily scribbled note: Kuya, project ko sa-submit next week.

***

Pandemic! At The School

I am not quite a germ-phobe but I do have my tendencies. Like I smear my desk with alcohol first thing on Monday morning (who knows what crawled there over the weekend). And considering the clutter on my side table, a viral invasion is highly probable.

With this pandemic scare about A(H1N1), my usually indifferent Mom included small vials of sanitizer in the school bags of my brothers. They were at first “ashamed” of using them. I gave them my two cents worth and asked them what was more shameful: (a) having and using a sanitizer or (b) being known as one of the confirmed A(H1N1) cases and part of the statistics. That shut them up.

As for me, I consciously try not touch anything when I’m in a public place. And I tend to disinfect myself with sanitizer every 15 minutes.

***

Jimmy Who?

One time we were in Greenbelt 5 and passed by this luxury shoe salon (that’s what I think it is...I can’t figure out ladies and their bags and shoes).



F exclaimed: “May Jimmy Choo na dito!” (There’s a Jimmy Choo here already)

I said: Wow, really...sa kanta ko lang yan naririnig. (I only hear that in song’s lyrics)

I was referring to (obviously) Shontelle’s song T-shirt. Sing it now: Sick of this dress and this Jimmy Choos...with nothing but your t-shirt on.

F cracked up and said “Lower your voice...lumabas ang pagka-jologs!”

I cracked up.

Ay....Phone!

I am starting to forgive Apple for the worst techno fluke since the Y2K Bug. The iPhone!

I got my iPhone from my sashyal sister who pulled all the right strings to get me one during its first mass-market (or shall we say sashyal market) shipment to the Philippines. The techwhore in me had a screaming 3G orgasm when I got it! Then the feeling wore off when I realized its lousy features (complete with I-can’t-believe-Apple-didn’t-think-of-that expression).

Topmost of the lousy features is the fact that you can’t forward SMS nor can you delete SMS individually. You have to delete all the SMS from that person and of course I don’t have the heart to erase the “Kumain na u?” and “Here na me” messages (Ang cheeesey!).

Apparently Apple forgot to consult the SMS capital of the world for inputs. Blasphemy!

Good old me just accepted these sad facts and made use of its better features (like easy interphase from phone to laptop and create-your-own ringtone using songs from the iPod).

This week, Apple released the third version of their operating system for iPhones (in line with the launch of the new gen of iPhone...with video I think). Finally Apple listened and addressed all the complaints. There are even cool additions like general search function and landscape keyboard.



It felt like getting a new phone all over again with all the new features and updates. No wonder all the celebrities were tweeting about it (Ashton: Just got the new iPhone download. God bless copy and paste!!!).

One last request: a create-your-own message alert tone.

The Heatseekers (June 20, 2009)

Here are 10 news songs that are on repeat mode on my playlist and are expected to rule the charts in the coming weeks:

* Obsessed – Mariah Carey
* I Gotta Feeling – Black Eyed Peas
* Battlefield – Jordin Sparks
* Zero Gravity – David Archuleta
* Shattered – O.A.R
* Before The Worst – The Script
* Stay – Gavin Degraw
* Steal Away – Billy Crawford
* White Horse – Taylor Swift
* Never Say Never – The Fray



Ok, can you now peel your eyes from her body and continue reading? :)

***

Some music updates:

Is it just me or is Mariah’s new single (Obsessed) a lash-back song for Eminem? I heard the song days ago and was amused at the lyrics: You on your job, you hatin’ hard / Ain’t gon feed you, I'ma’ let you starve / Finally found a girl that you couldn’t impress / Got you all fired up with your Napoleon complex / Ohh boy why you so obsessed with me?

Those lyrics plus the fact that the song started with: Will the real MC please...step to the mic (to the tune of Eminem’s famous Will the real Slim Shady please stand up) were not-so-subtle wink-winks.

I think this is MC’s answer to a track on his recent CD Relapse (if I remember it right the song was Bagpipes for Baghbad) where Eminem practices his celeb-blogging and name-dropping satirical lyrics to mock Mariah and Nick Canon. Celebrity Deathmatch is on...let’s see who wins.

***

On the US charts, this week is definitely all about the Black-Eyed Peas who delivers a 1-2-3 punch.

First, Boom Boom Pow spends an amazing 11 weeks at #1 on the Hot 100.

Second, their new song I Gotta Feeling debuts at #2 so they have the number 1 and 2 songs in the U.S of A. The last duo/group to accomplish this feat was Outkast in 2001 (Hey Yah! at #1 followed by The Way You Move).

Third, their new album (The E.N.D) also debuts at #1 on the Billboard Hot 200. Imagine...top two songs from the #1 album! That’s almost improbable!

Here in good old Phili, the local charts have been dominated by them American Idol alumni. For two weeks now, RX93.1’s countdown has Adam Lambert at #1 (Mad World) followed by David Archuleta (Touch My Hand), Kris Allen (No Boundaries) and Jordin Sparks (Battlefield).

***

Lately, the airwaves has been flooded by Tagalized rap/R&B songs; the most cringing of which are the Tagalized version of Umbrella and Bleeding Love.

So I won’t be surprised if I hear this on the radio: mu...mu...mu...mu...mu...mu...mukhang pusoy.

Another Everything

The long weekend stretched like a finite dream waiting to be realized. I need this weekend...to think things over.

I hate standing in a crossroad where there is a chance of walking towards a path of thorns. Yet the path of least resistance is not so tempting either. Part of me is thankful that I am still moving and shifting, as compared to being inert and senile.

I hate being placed in an unforgiving cliff where I am urged to just soar. Because the fall into unfathomable depths is always waiting on the other side. That or being told to fly higher. I keep thinking of Icarus who wanted to fly so bad he ended up getting too close to the sun.

And I don’t want to be placed in a pedestal. To me this is an ultimate representation of a blessing and a curse.

Sometimes I am scared of opportunities even if there’s nothing to lose. Nothing LEFT to lose.

I want sure foot. I want slow yet guaranteed progress. I want baby steps, for during the few times that I took the big leap, I just ended up where I started.

Even as a child I never dreamed of becoming a superhero. I was slapped with reality a little too early that there was no point in dreaming. You just look reality in the eye, accept the horrors that you see and not let it break you. The only power I know of is resilience. The only enemy I fear is myself.

Sleepless hours... the rolling of the dice...the breaking free.

Another chance... another life...

Am I ready for another everything?


***

A world that moves too fast.
A mouth of broken glass.
It may not seem so painful.
By January, the rain will swallow.
Change will follow.

CD Review: The Education of Mandy Moore

The newly-married poster girl for anti-pop continues her classic-rock-chick reinvention.



AMANDA LEIGH
Mandy Moore
Storefront Records (Independent)
US Release: May 26, 2009
Chart Impact: #25 on the Billboard Hot 200 Albums; #4 on the Billboard Top Independent Albums.

While her peers are still singing about the circus and serving tiresome all-the-single-ladies pop anthems, Moore has left the pop-fun factory and decidedly ventured into adult-contemporary with her last effort Wild Hope. That album did not sell gazillions of downloads nor did it inspire young girls to develop nice abs and dance with an albino snake, but it did cement Moore’s cred as a serious singer-songwriter.

Now, Moore digs deeper and comes up with a subdued but more tasteful , if not her most mature, collection to date. She even dares to stamp it with her real name (hence, Amanda Leigh) as if to further prove that this is her true self. And as if she is going back to her roots...but no, not to the "Candy"-coated pop that jumpstarted her 10-year career.

First, let us rewind to her last two albums. In 2003’s Coverage, Moore turned her back at her producers and popdom and like a wild child re-recorded old songs she loved (the likes of Can We Still Be Friends by Todd Rundgren and Anticipation by Carly Simon). Some critics named it the best covers album in recent years. In 2007, she explored her darker side in Wild Hope, the first album she co-wrote. That album was a throwback of sorts to Alanis’ Jagged Little Pill with its tortured and vengeful sentiments (Nothing That You Are) and vulnerable self-scrutiny (Extraordinary and Gardenia), obviously a caustic by-product of her high-profile romantic break-ups.

In Amanda Leigh, Moore continues her creative statement and unapologetic experimentation and this time morphs into a friendlier Fiona Apple. Songs are still about love and introspection but gone are the grit and emotional turbulence of Wild Hope, replaced by sunshine and tender yearning. Here, Moore continues to straddle pop, rock and folk music with a sound that is fast becoming her own (something like neo-classic pop) and clearly suited for her sultry voice. Each of the 10 songs rolls beautifully and mostly tinged with sounds from the 70’s (remnants of her Coverage phase perhaps?) Think The Beach Boys and Joni Mitchell who are two of Moore’s self-confessed influences.

As with Wild Hope, the songs here are seldom instantly likable. But give it a few more spins and they will grow on you, a trademark of remarkable songs. Instrumentation is more precise that Wild Hope but sometimes too calculatedly vintage; or comes a little too close to musical theatre. Yet there is no denying that Moore and main collaborator Mike Viola (That Thing You Do) had a lot of fun doing this.

Lyrically, this is her best to date and her poetry is something to be envied; a far cry from the shallow and repetitive lyrics spun by the likes of Beyonce. She can be sarcastic and tongue-in-cheek (Those calendar girls, they've got nothing on me, she sings in the lead single) or serious and sombre (I can never be that kind of girl who absorbs that kind of suffering / And turns it into some kind of pearl). However, lyrics are not as relatable and accessible as that of Wild Hope, since that speaks in the universal language of heartbreak.

Lead single I Could Break Your Heart Any Day Of The Week may confuse with its pop sound and flashy (if not shocking) video. But while the melody is bouncy and catchy, it incorporates hand-claps and clavinets to give it the distinct folksy sound made famous by Sheryl Crow.



Pocket Philosopher is one of the instantly enjoyable tracks, with its showtune melody that is recently made Top 40 material by Lenka (The Show).

Also refreshing are Love To Love Me Back and Indian Summer. The former is a mid-tempo song about soul searching and reciprocity; and the later is a heart-tugging number that speaks of cherishing love lost in a time bygone.

Meanwhile Songs From Home shines with its rich textures that invokes the unmistakable feeling of longing and belonging. If this CD was a movie, then this is the part where you will have a lump in your throat and grab for a Kleenex.

Moore is at her brightest in the slower, stripped-down tracks which showcase her clean way of singing. Wild Hope’s main gem is Gardenia, which channels the melancholy sound of Sarah McLachlan. Here, she has two of those. One is Everblue (co-written by Lori McKenna), about would-be love and set in a languid pace that turns moody and tender.

The other song and (for me) the best track is the closing song Bug (a name she calls husband Ryan Adams, an info she passed via Twitter). It is simple, splendid and elegant...very Moore. With only gently-strummed guitars as her background, Mandy sings plaintively You know I love you / What am I supposed to do / You’re so far away.

The downside of Amanda Leigh is the same downside of her last effort: while the songs are consistent and makes for an enjoyable listening experience, they are still middling. Expect no huge radio airplay hits from this CD but these songs will surely find its way to TV and movie soundtracks.

Also, some of Moore’s fans (especially in Asia and Australia) might be put off by her songs about Merrimack River and blooming jacarandas. It takes a deeper understanding of Moore’s growth and musicology to truly appreciate these songs. Moore, of course, realizes this as she confessed in a recent Details magazine interview: "The music is all a reflection of me now, not somebody else's choices (an oblique jab at Epic Records, which released her first four albums). If people don't like the music, then they don't like me—and that's quite all right."

In this time of glossy downloadable songs and one-time YouTube superstars, it takes some nerve to create your own album and put it out there. More than anything, Amanda Leigh is a statement of self-confidence and a promise of bolder things to come (Ryan Adam’s influence will surely rub off her in her next work). In her last three albums, Moore seems to be taunting pop and asking herself this big question: Do I make a record that will sell millions but will soon be forgotten... or songs that only a few will appreciate but is bound to stay with them forever? (which is true, I still can’t get over Latest Mistake from Wild Hope but I bet only a few people knows that song, which further adds to its beauty and making it kinda "personal").

There is no right or wrong answer. But one thing is for sure: she has become one of the more intriguing and enduring artist of this generation, leaving us asking for moore (pun intended).

Copyright and Reviewed by: B. Crisostomo (Philippines) at www.barnieboi.blogspot.com

***

Update:

Thanks to readers who have corrected some of the info above. Apparently Bug is Ryan's nickname for Mandy, not the other way around. Thanks for reading!

Rolling Stone Magazine (known for dissing pop) has also spoken. Here's their glowing 3.5-starred review:

"The title is taken from the singer's real first and middle names, the acoustic instrumentation emits a cozy campfire glow, and the album was recorded in a modest basement home studio. Message: This is real music, not computerized starlet pop. Listeners are advised to ignore the authenticity issues and focus on Moore's catchy tunes and warm voice on Amanda Leigh. Co-writing with producer Mike Viola, she swings from folk-rock confessions ("Merrimack River") to perky pop ("Nothing Everything"), delivering 11 shapely songs that would sound good even if they were recorded in a penthouse."

Snow Globes And Red Mango

The three of us settled at a table near the walkway, nursing our individual yoghurt ice cream with only almonds in common. Mine has slices of grapes, K’s has peaches and M’s has mangoes. It’s my first time to try Red Mango and it immediately became a favourite. I know it’s bad for my throat but times like this, I simply refuse to care.

The rains are still coming in torrents outside. It’s starting to feel like we are sealed inside a snow globe, only there were rains instead of snow.

I was the first to arrive at the place, having left the office early in anticipation of this squalid weather and requisite traffic. I wasted the time away exploring this new shopping and dining haven.

On my way to the ATM, I saw a beautiful apparition coming out of Fitness First. I did a second look. Is it really who I think it is? My all-time celebrity crush. Fresh out of the gym in all her simple yet elegant glory. I controlled my palpitation and quickly finished my ATM transaction in the hopes that I can see her again when I re-enter the mall.

She was nowhere in sight so I just pursued my aimless walking. I felt the onset of hunger so I considered getting some fries just to get by. Then I saw her coming out of a posh diner and quelled the urge to follow her. But she turned around so our paths crossed. She caught my eye for a second and I got dizzy. Turned out I have been holding my breath for God knows how long.

Excuse my being cheesy. It’s not every day this happens. And although I’ve met and talked to her before, she really has this stupefying effect on me.

Ditching my stalker instinct, I wandered away from her and soon found myself inside Fully Booked. There were towers of the Twilight Books everywhere. I remember that a few months ago, you can hardly find a copy. I strolled into the juvenile section and found this.



These are some of the first books I ever read. Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew, Bobbsey Twins. I’ve practically gobbled up these hardcover versions during my tween stage. Nice of them to bring these back so kids of today can enjoy them; further expanding their reading list beyond Harry, Edward and gossip blogs. If I win the lottery, I’ll order a full set of these series. Which means I have zero chances of owning them.

I resisted the urge to buy another purple shirt. Purple has become the new black. I wanted a new jacket but either they are too expensive or too fancy for my taste.

Finally, K and M arrived and since we were famished we started foraging for a place to eat, eventually settling for Red Vine. K said she will pay for this dinner in light of a dare which I won. Whopee! Soon I was enjoying my creamy dory pasta. Four spoons out of five!

M was on the phone half of the time. I had the urge to dip said phone in her calamansi juice (just kidding, M!). We talked about their “escape,” a certain marathon and some people who will remain nameless for their own sakes. Haha!

And now here we are enjoying desert. Something caught K and M’s eyes; I was sitting with my back to the crowd so I asked what it was. Turned out a celebrity couple just joined us. He is a child star turned international star who just released a new CD. She is singer whose first claim to fame is a commercial where she is walking, singing and giving out softdrinks in bottles.

If you still don’t get it, here’s a no-brainer for you:



Props to these two for being unassuming and nonchalant despite their celebrity status. He even seems uncomfortable at being stared at. He's worlds away from the hyperactive sensation onstage. Or maybe it’s because she was wearing too much make up, while he looked like he just stepped out of ballgame. When they went out, he opened the door for her and didn’t let go until the other people have passed also. I laughed at this mother who was so kilig when she realized who just held the door for her.

We talked about Japanese authors and our last plane ride that was punctuated with hilarity. Then, we pondered going back to Fully Booked but we realized the mall stores have closed while we were in our private snow globe.

Outside, the rains are letting up. Taking it as our cue, we drifted into night like some nocturnal cult. Unsure when such idyllic gathering will happen again.

***

I woke up Saturday morning to more rains. Weather like this surely ruins any weekend schedule. I wanted to visit a long-time buddy who just became a proud dad a couple of days back. I know fatherhood is supposed to change you; but D has turned strangely mushy that I had to read his texts twice, unconvinced that it was from the same person I know.

Not that there’s anything wrong with it. It just needs getting used to. Like change.

Like most things in life.

***

In the languidness of the weekend, I realize that the last two days felt like some weird dream sequence. Like I was in two different spheres last Thursday and Friday. There were a lot of loose edges, hush-hush whispers and intertwining events.

For now, I’m still lost in finding rhyme or reason. My mind is unpredictably overwhelmed. If there’s one thing I know for sure...it’s the sound of dominoes and musical chairs.

***

The things that you thought I didn’t know... are the things I understand the most.

***

It's So Tweet

I am developing some real fascination for Twitter. Now I know what the fuss is all about. And I fell for it... hook, line and sinker!



Some famous twitters like Ashton and Anderson Cooper dish out some nuggets of wisdom via tweet. What a cool way to educate mankind and make this world a better place. And you'd be surprised that some celebrities have smart wisecracks up their sleeves. Hollywood is not Bimboland after all.

Here are some interesting tweets (from the humdrum to the poetic) from celebrities I followed.

Ryan Seacrest: In dressing room at conan show..the toilet water is blue

Ashton Kutcher: It's so simple to be wise. Just think of something stupid to say and then don't say it." ~ Sam Levenson (I totally agree...some people are simply enslaved by their mouths)

John Mayer: When you got hurt/in pieces on the floor/you put them back together better than before. (I assume these are lyrics to a new song he is writing)

John Mayer again: When you got hurt/it made you beautiful/the cracks around your heart will let the light shine through

Ashton again: things don't happen to you they happen for you

Mariah Carey: I've been trying to tweet since 1901. Wtf??? Its not letting my tweets go thru! Check one two.. (Apparently she is having problems sending her tweets)

Ashton once again: Nothing worse than sitting through a graduation after your kid has gotten their diploma.

David Archuleta: Woah! Just now hearing The Man Who Can't Be Moved on the radio for my first time! (So finally this song is being played in the US! It’s old news here in the Phili)

Chico Garcia: hmmm...im back to taking zinc & copper and chromium. i take it with my vitwater because it's like water, but better, you know?

Delamar: Me thinks a bag of granny goose tortillas is calling my name at the grocery store. Must answer the call. Kawawa naman... (Delle, I thought we agreed that you love Cheetos, haha!)

And finally...

Barnieboi: Woke up later than usual. Had a blast with K and M last night. I can still taste my Red Mango. It's bad for my throat but what-the-heck!

Barnieboi again: Leaves do fall. Do I blame the wind or the tree that let it go? Here I am choking and waiting for the dust to settle.

Come follow us. Go to twitter.com.

Music For The Tears From Heaven

Seems like the rains came in time for the opening of classes. It has been raining the entire week! I only saw sunshine (hmmm...both literal and figurative) Friday morning. And like most good things, it was gone before you can even enjoy it. And suddenly everything is grey and wet again.



I love the cool clean air when it’s raining. But definitely not the dampness. The rains feed the urge to just lie in bed in a fetal position, listen to depressing music or read through a really tragic book. As the rains fall, part of me just wants to be drenched in pain all over again.

I chose to just listen to music. And I came up with this Rainy playlist:

* After The Rain Has Fallen – Sting
* Fire And Rain – James Taylor
* Why Does It Always Rain On Me – Travis
* Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head – Ben Fold Five
* Rain – Madonna
* Please Don’t Stop The Rain – James Morrison
* Kiss The Rain – Billie Myers
* January Rain – David Gray

Apparently the rains are battering not just this side of the world. Chris Daughtry just tweeted: "Rainy Day again. Makes me want to sleep all day."

***

I wish for nothing but the rain to fall
And wash away everything that I've done wrong
Find a way to make you strong
If only for another day

One Early (Rainy) Thursday

Just some quick blog on the go.

Today is coding day. So I was on the road real early. I'm here at Starbucks Podium at 7AM, waiting for F to get me. Off to a meeting in Makati in three hours.

Had a natural high driving at traffic-free, albeit slick, roads this morning. But damnit I had to wake up real early. Considering that the weather is conducive to catching up on the ZZZZZZZs. And I need it... badly.

I love the rains but not when it's this hard and spontaneous. Did I just call the rain spontaneous???

M just told me that her cousin has just been attacked by aneurysm and has very slim chance to live. I say a silent prayer for him. Then her brother just had a baby. Ahh...the cycle of life...

This blog is beginning to look like a Twitter feed. Which reminds me I succumbed to Twitter the other day. Name's still Barnieboi. So come follow me.

Just got a text from F. She's 20 minutes away.

Gotta go. Laters!