Whether it's your first Bonnaroo or you’re a music festival veteran, we welcome you to Inforoo.
Here you'll find info about artists, rumors, camping tips, and the infamous Roo Clues. Have a look around then create an account and join in the fun. See you at Bonnaroo!!
Post by nodepression on Jan 3, 2012 13:43:03 GMT -5
That's a good one.
Winter albums have to contain a certain sort of distance for me, a numbness that really only shows up when your ears are freezing and your hands hurt from the cold. The rushing to get back inside, the lack of color.
Winter albums have to contain a certain sort of distance for me, a numbness that really only shows up when your ears are freezing and your hands hurt from the cold. The rushing to get back inside, the lack of color.
Interesting definition, nod. I think I would consider a winter album something that has some despair and sadness to it. I guess cause that's how I feel during the winter.
Post by nodepression on Jan 3, 2012 13:57:25 GMT -5
Definitely, I handle the season better now, but it used to bum me out as a kid that it wouldn't be comfortable outside for another three months.
Plus it doesn't help that I always imagine my summer as rolling hills, leaning against barns with the paint peeling off and nothing but green grass ahead of me. When in reality I'm not around any of that stuff and I maybe go hiking or to the beach once or twice a year.
Post by cheeky resurrection on Jan 3, 2012 15:05:01 GMT -5
When I think of winter albums I think warm and sad, or still/quiet... but I just compiled a list of what I've listened to most recently and this is what happened:
Oddly enough, most of these are comfort/staple albums for me.
Post by cheeky resurrection on Jan 3, 2012 15:12:26 GMT -5
^Hum is a solid example of a true gem of the 90s. Downward is Heavenward is their best album, but Electra 2000 and You'd Prefer an Astronaut are just as good, respectively.
All the ones I've gone through and "Liked" plus, I have to mention Tear Garden's "Tired Eyes Slowly Burning"... fits that mood that I often think of when it comes to "cold" albums.
And, NoD, you should give When The Pawn... by Fiona a listen. One of my favorite albums of the 90s, for certain.
Post by nodepression on Jan 4, 2012 11:01:04 GMT -5
I actually prefer Duff's wings in Amherst (suburb about 10 minutes out of city) to Anchor Bar's. I think a lot of Buffalonians agree on that, it's also a lot cheaper than Anchor Bar. But I understand the tourist appeal of the restaurant. You're also by Allen St, which is the big bar strip of downtown (Chippewa is for teens/bros.)
That's pretty much it, Albright Knox on Elmwood (art museum) is pretty close as well from AB but I don't know if you want to do any of that sort of thing. Elmwood village is good for cafe's/other restaurants as well.
I'm totally a "winter" album person. Most of my favorite bands come from regions known for cool, grey weather, which could explain my Mancunian disposition. Here's a review I blogged about one album that's still a favorite:
Editors – An End Has a Start : "Any band who is favorably compared to Joy Division, Coldplay, and Echo and the Bunnymen instantly gets my attention. This band is more than hype, more than the sum of its introspective lyrics and minor key power hooks. Although this album was overlooked on several critic's lists (save for KEXP) I found it a refreshing musical journey. It's ideal winter music: lush melodies married to slightly bleak lyrics that linger long after the album concludes ("all you can hope for is the love you felt to equal the pain you've gone through" or "your face in my hands is everything good I need.") It's cold, cloudy-day music that the English do best. It's what you listen to when you can't muster up enough energy to be angry, so you reflect in pensive solitude. It's the musical equivalent of a trip to the therapist's office, only you never have to leave home. You won't be cured of what ails you when the album is over, but you'll feel like you've made progress."
Oh, and no winter tunes therapy sesh is complete without spinning this one a time or three:
There's just something about UK/Irish artists: their plaintive wails capture the pain of heartbreak so well it's damn near palpable. Damien Rice. Glen Hansard. Van Morrison. Peter Gabriel. Thom Yorke. Marcus Mumford. Adele...just to name a few. Those are my therapists.