Music is the New Pornography

Several month ago Sarah copied me a bunch of albums. I've been getting to them every time I have to spend serious quality time with Excel at work. Listening to music helps it be less boring and also drowns out neighbouring conversations about episodes of Friends, so it's a double-fisted concentration booster.

So I finally heard the new New Pornographers album all the way through. "Challengers".

[Yes, I am terribly behind the times. Don't even worry about it: I'm killing it in Fantasy Moguls in both leagues that I am in. I've traded my book and music on-top-of-it-ness for movie on-top-of-it-ness. I love me some tracking reports.]

This music is good. Good enough to distract me from =SUM(A:14*1000), good enough to play some songs over again right after hearing them for the first time. "Myriad Harbour", wow. "Go Places", wow. How great would it be to write songs for Neko Case's pretty pretty voice? If I were a guy, I'd be one of those guys at New Pornographers shows shouting marriage proposals to Neko (which happened both times I saw them back in Vancity, although at the Commodore, she also got, "show us your tits!" which is a good reason not to play at the Commodore, horsehair floor or no). As it is, the only person I'd yell a marriage proposal to at a show would be Roy Orbison. Too bad for me he's dead. Also: old.

"Go Places", though. I've been listening to that all day. Thank you, you magical side-projecteers for the semi-all-knowing, semi-nonsensical lyrics. Good thing this is in the era of the convenient portable device with headphones, otherwise my roommate might kill me the same way roommates of the past have probably wanted to during winters of "The Only Living Boy In New York" eighty-seven million times in a row.