U Don’t Know Me
Just found U Don’t Know Me by Armand Van Helden on #SoundHound for Android. http://www.soundhound.com/?t=0b42e175b160f71097a4ed9384b5858e
I love this.
Just found U Don’t Know Me by Armand Van Helden on #SoundHound for Android. http://www.soundhound.com/?t=0b42e175b160f71097a4ed9384b5858e
At Second Story Bar – See on Path.
Reviewing LeRoi Jones’s Blues People in The New York Review in 1964, Ralph Ellison wrote:Perhaps more than any other people, Americans have been locked in a deadly struggle with time, with history. We’ve fled the past and trained…
Here’s the full text of a piece I wrote for The Magazine a few months ago. I really enjoyed writing it, and would like to thank Marco once again for publishing it there. If you haven’t checked out The Magazine yet, you should. Anyway, here’s why you’re a total snooze:
Everything was going great until you showed up. You see me across the crowded room, make your way over, and start talking at me. And you don’t stop.
You are a Democrat, an outspoken atheist, and a foodie. You like to say “Science!” in a weird, self-congratulatory way. You wear jeans during the day, and fancy jeans at night. You listen to music featuring wispy lady vocals and electronic bloop-bloops.
You really like coffee, except for Starbucks, which is the worst. No wait—Coke is the worst! Unless it’s Mexican Coke, in which case it’s the best.
Pixar. Kitty cats. Uniqlo. Bourbon. Steel-cut oats. Comic books. Obama. Fancy burgers.
You listen to the same five podcasts and read the same seven blogs as all your pals. You stay up late on Twitter making hashtagged jokes about the event that everyone has decided will be the event about which everyone jokes today. You love to send withering @ messages to people like Rush Limbaugh—of course, those notes are not meant for their ostensible recipients, but for your friends, who will chuckle and retweet your savage wit.
You are boring. So, so boring.
Don’t take it too hard. We’re all boring. At best, we’re recovering bores. Each day offers a hundred ways for us to bore the crap out of the folks with whom we live, work, and drink. And on the internet, you’re able to bore thousands of people at once.1
A few years ago, I had a job that involved listening to a ton of podcasts. It’s possible that I’ve heard more podcasts than anyone else—I listened to at least a little bit of tens of thousands of shows. Of course, the vast majority were so bad I’d often wish microphones could be sold only to licensed users. But I did learn how to tell very quickly whether someone was interesting or not.
The people who were interesting told good stories. They were also inquisitive: willing to work to expand their social and intellectual range. Most important, interesting people were also the best listeners. They knew when to ask questions. This was the set of people whose shows I would subscribe to, whose writing I would seek out, and whose friendship I would crave. In other words, those people were the opposite of boring.
Here are the three things they taught me.
Nina Simone would have turned 80 years old today. Born Eunice Kathleen Waymon in Tryon, N.C., she changed her name to Nina Simone (“Nina” meaning “little one” and “Simone” after the actress Simone Signoret) after she began singing in bars early in her career, something her Methodist minister mother none too subtly referred to as “working in the fires of hell.” This photo I am sharing today is my favorite of Ms. Simone, a stunning shot by Pittsburgh photography icon Charles “Teenie” Harris, circa 1965.
(via npr)
For a moment yesterday afternoon alone in my studio with my system blaring, I danced to this like no one was watching, sang to every tune like no one could hear me and felt the spirits of all my heroes having a good time with me. The tears flowed, the smiles engulfed my face and for that brief 1:18 minutes the troubles of the world went away. Happy Birthday To Me! Everyone should have a moment like this each and everyday of their lives. Enjoy!