Private Dancer - Trouble Eyes

Private Dancer - Trouble Eyes

This is not a music blog. This blogger, however, is a DJ and therefore listens to music. This is a review of a record by a band called "Private Dancer".

There are a few ways that records are reviewed, and these methods I feel can be summed up in questions: How do I feel about this record? What does this record mean/Why is this record important? What does this record sound like?/How original is this record? Do I reccomend this record?

This is, of course, a ridiculous way to approach a "review", but here's the plan: I'm going to answer the aforementioned questions.

How do I feel about his record?

I feel pretty good. Listening to it, I'm interested. The sound is fairly dense, and I suspect my mother would not like it. She doesn't like music with "muddled" sounds. However, there are some cleverly hidden hooks within the "sonic collage". I love clichés.

What does this record mean/Why is this record important?

Short answer: Who knows.
Long answer: This is rock music, no doubt. Rock music is not necessarily meaningful, but sometimes it is. This is the beauty of the genre. Like literature, it can be entertaining, it can be thought provoking, and it can be both. I have done absolutely no research on this band, so I don't know who they are or where they're from. If I had to guess, I'd say they're late-twenties white men, with beards and book collections. Probably more than two college degrees between them, and definitely some wit. So what does this record mean? Who knows. But I like it, it makes me feel cool.

What does this record sound like/How original is this record?

The first song and many others on the record sound like proto-metal, very much like Detroit's Awesome Color. That shouldn't mean anything to most people, so imagine MC5-style rock played by a bunch of white college graduates, only less militant. The musicianship is good, however, not sloppy, and not everything on the record sounds like raw meat. Track number second, "1000 year wave" is a slower cut, still with a little fuzz but also a clear, melodic and very pleasing lead guitar. It's somewhere between instrumental rock (like Unwed Sailor) and I-don't-know-what. I like this track very much, though. The rest of the record is not uniform, dancing between hooks and noise and clever lyrics. The last track, "Do You Like To Read?" strongly evokes The Hold Steady with its lyrical delivery, and the words suggest to me that Private Dancer does, indeed, like to read. Original? Not particularly. Private Dancer, like The Hold Steady, plays sometimes abrasive rock music that seems to draw on seventies arena rock. But unlike The Hold Steady, they are also capable of toning things down. This record is a new take on a well established genre (noisy rock), but the hooks are pleasing and the lyrics are interesting enough to warrant a close look.

Do I recommend this record?

Yes. If you like rock music, you might like this band. I do.

Ski Discovery

So there's this ski area called Discovery just west of Anaconda, MT. It's about a two and a half hour drive from Bozeman, and lift tickets are $35. I'd never been there, so Alfred and I decided to "explore the West" and check out this area, since backcountry skiing right now is exceptionally shady. That turned out to be a good idea. Discovery got 6" the night before we went, and it snowed probably 4" during the day. So while there were fresh tracks to be had in the morning, there were more fresh tracks to be had in the afternoon. Very cool. Discovery has three faces, which are roughly geared towards beginner, intermediate, and expert skiers. The front side had greens, blues, and some black diamond runs that were really fun. The "intermediate side" was mostly black diamond with one lone blue cruiser. The "backside" is almost entirely double black diamond, with some slopes steeper than 40 degrees and almost nothing mellower than about 30-35 degrees. Lots of snow, no lift lines, plenty of room on the slopes, and a super low-key vibe means we'll be back in the future.

Some pictures:

We left Bozeman around 7AM

We're almost in Anaconda.
Alfred, finding some soft snow on the mid-difficulty side.

More turns on the very nice (and mellow) single blacks.
Me, trying to maintain my composure in the softness that accumulated throughout the day. This run was not opened until mid-afternoon, so it hadn't been skied much yet.
All things considered, Discovery is awesome.

December, huh?

Okay, here we are.

Winter break is here, that's nice. The family came up and joined Alfred and I for a few days, while we skied, sledded, and ate. Bridger Bowl is nice, Benjamin is sort-of turning on his snowboard, and I'm starting to get the hang of this telemark thing. But not really.

Tomorrow the plan is an adventurous journey to Discovery Ski area West of Anaconda. No reason, except that I haven't been there and I'm not working.

Sometime in the recent past I went up Mount Ellis with Alfred and Zach for some skiing. The snow was soft, but only about a foot deep with no base, so the skiing was slightly hazardous.

The avalanche conditions in the Gallatin area are currently horrendous, so backcountry skiing is probably out of the question until things settle down a little.

Here are some pictures from the Mount Ellis trip:

Potentially following: Photos from Discovery.

Skiing, yo.

Skiing is awesome. Alfred, Zach, and Kerstin skied with me today. We went up towards Sacagawea Peak and skied some mellow, low-angle stuff. I went halfway off the road on the way up (operator error, not particularly treacherous roads) but Alfred, Zach, and Kerstin pushed the car back on the road while I floored the gas, a feat that was only possible because they are as strong as oxen. Then I got a flat. I fixed that and drove the rest of the road with non-full-size donut spare. We started skinning at about nine, which is a little late considering that we left the house at seven, but not bad considering that I had already gotten pseudo-stuck and changed a tire. The snow was variable, but the coverage was sufficient, and it was great to get back on skis. I'm still horrible at making telemark turns. Horrible meaning almost incapable. It was fun, and we found a protected gully full of soft snow which made everything okay. We got back into town a couple of minutes past noon, after driving back at about 35 with the hazard lights on. The world looks different at 35. Here are some lifestyle shots:

Hm

It's been a while since I updated this blog with anything worth saying. But that sentence is useless.

What I've been up to:
Reading a bunch of British novels and Western Literature, and a French novel about a North African immigrant living in Paris and the trials of her life. I've been thinking about these books, talking about these books, and writing analytical essays about these books. I'm really enjoying my classes, but they're somewhat demanding, so I haven't had time for much else other than work and school. Mountain biking season is officially over, but the snow isn't sincerely here yet. My brother skied last weekend in variable snow, which made me jealous. I went to a cabin with the French club, which was fun.

The plan is to go to the East coast over Thanksgiving to see my entire extended family on my mother's side. I'm looking forward to it, but expect the event to be chaotic.

The literature I'm reading is stimulating, and I'm sure I'll never think or write the same way again, which is encouraging. I'm at a point of development, I hope. It's a little like being adolescent and feeling intense pains in limbs that are growing, except it's my brain. The old adage holds true: the more we learn, the more we realize that we can never know. It is a horrible anxiety of confusion, a complete lack of understanding that can only come with understanding something.

I've started writing more, which makes me think even more about who I am and where I fit and what I want to do. I don't think these problems of identity and place have solutions, but what else is there to do but search them out?

I'm still doing my radio show, which is a lovely little part of my life that I enjoy furiously. I'm on this Wednesday at 6AM MST.

That's it, I guess, a short summary of where I think I am right now, without really summarizing anything. I'm not sure what the purpose of this blog is. It started as a place to brag about my exploits, but rapidly devolved into a place to dump words and pictures every month or so. Now I'm not so sure. It feels more like a diary, the type of blog that used to repulse me.

It is what it is, and this is it.

VOTE!

Seriously.

We live in a Democratic Republic, and the only opportunity we have to voice our opinions is on the ballot.

Don't cast a vote based on your own personal insecurities. Don't vote based on misgivings or on character attacks. Vote for the candidate that represents you, vote in the way the drafters of our constitution intended. Vote for a person who will make the decisions you would like to see made. Vote for the candidate who will do what you want done in Iraq, in our Economy. Vote for the candidate who will make the social policy changes you'd like to see made, for the candidate who will appoint supreme court justices that you would like to see appointed. Vote based on careful analysis of policy. Vote.

Creek Crossings

Since most (if not all) of the trails around Bozeman follow drainages up into the hills, creek crossings are abundant. This post is about them.

Here's Katie preparing to navigate a rocky crossing, on the way back down South Cottonwood.


This is Evan, braving the cold meltwater about a mile from Emerald Lake

Here's pat, ambitiously attempting a creek crossing on South Cottonwood. I've never seen anybody clean this. To be fair, there was an awful lot of water.



Here's me, on a log crossing in Big Sky's North Fork.



Also, random notes:

Helmet Hair is awesome:


Bike rack stability testing:



It shames me to say it, but I'm starting to get excited for snow. I'm still going mountain biking about twice a week, and will continue until the weather forbids it.