something different – happiness, music and alela diane

For obvious reasons, the last fortnight has been something of a downer. You can have too much of a good thing, or so they say, but I know you can definitely have too much of bad stuff.

Time for a break.

So, here’s some music I’ve been enjoying a lot over the last month or so. Sorry Andrew, it’s not Pink Floyd or David Bowie. Sorry Em – it’s not Radiohead, although I know you love them.

It’s a singer from America called Alela Diane. Her second album has just come out here, it’s called To be still. The first album was really stark and folky. This one is a bit more fleshed out, musically. Here’s a live performance on youtube:

Isn’t she lovely?

Running
I had planned on a long-ish run this lunch-time but blasted, damnable work got in the way. In the end I only had time for a quick lap of the tan.

not so hot

You may have heard Triple J had a big 100 favourite songs of all time thing over last weekend. It was kinda fun, partly to listen to some nice songs, but mainly to get righteously upset about people choosing absolute rubbish.

I submitted my top 10, and I’m proud (I think) to say not one of them turned up in the top 100. I’m not sure if that means I just have too refined tastes or I’m completely off with the fairies, or both.

The JJJ site seemed to be crashing constantly for me yesterday, but you can see a complete list at the Herald Sun website.

These lists are always completely subjective, and end up telling you more about the person who them together then music itself. That being said, the typical JJJ audience member is probably in his/her 30’s and has a nostalgic fondness for 90s grunge music and epic songs that sound like 3 songs combined into one (Bohemian Rhapsody, Paranoid Android). I guess if one song is good, three songs squashed into one must be 3 times as good, and therefore a classic.

Also, they seem to think music didn’t exist before about 1968, and only then if it was created by the Beatles, the Stones, Pink Floyd or Bob Dylan. The whole 20th century before that point never existed (sorry Elvis, Louis Armstrong, etc.). God forbid I should suggest there was some nice music written back before 1900!

That being said, the list wasn’t too bad, asside for some notable exceptions. Who the hell voted for Foo Fighters’ “Evermore”? Lots of people must have, because it ended up being number 9. And who keeps voting for Muse’s “Knights of Cydonia”? It’s an absolute stinking heap of tacky sheep-dung of a song. People who claim to like that song have serious personal problems as well as dubious taste in music.

Running
Since Gold Coast I’ve had a bit of pain in the knee which – helpfully – migrated around various other joints in the sub-waist area. So, running’s been kept fairly minimal. I ran twice, for 18km in total. I did however swim 3 times, for a total 1700 metres.

Today I gave running a more serious try – 11.35km at lunchtime in 54 minutes. The knee was a touch unwilling at first, but it seemed to warm up towards the end.

not a post about Michael Jackson

It’s sad when anyone dies, particularly before their time. Michael Jackson’s death was sad, as was much of his life, as I see it, but it kinda leaves me cold.

I could see he was something of a dancer, and a very talented musician, very young, but when it comes down to it I just don’t like his music. I never have, never will. Even “Billie Jean” which everyone seems to love, just strikes me as a bit tinny.

Anyway, it’s also sad about Farrah Fawcett, Victoria’s third swine-flu victim and all the thousands of people who die every day in the third world.

Grumpy
I’m slightly grumpy today, as you may have guessed. The damn cold I had ages ago is still going, and has now ensconced itself in my lungs. I don’t want to make it worse, so I haven’t run since Monday. Given the marathon is Sunday week, I’m getting concerned.

I know I’m supposed to taper, but this is ridiculous.

I know I shouldn’t make too much of this, but I’m secretly seething. Outside I am my normal debonair self, but inside I’m raving like a foul-mouthed Tasmanian devil.

no stairway to heaven – triple j hottest 100 of all time

Yesterday’s post over at Em’s blog got me thinking, it’s time to enter triple j’s hottest 100 of all time.

Now, I could spend a month scouring the internet, my CD collection, my MP3 player and drawing up labyrinthine spreadsheets; in a way that might be fun. However, I don’t have the time and the entries close this week, so I’ve done a half-arsed, 5 minute job instead.

Here’s what I ended up with…..

1. Tim Buckley – Song to the Siren
2. Buffy Sainte-Marie – Little wheel spin and spin
3. The Las – There she goes
4. Bob Dylan – I shall be released
5. Leonard Cohen – Famous blue raincoat
6. The Dirty Three – Some summers they drop like flies
7. You am I – Berlin Chair
8. Antony and the Johnsons – Daylight and the sun
9. Nick Drake – Place to be
10. Nick Cave – The mercy seat

Most of them are in there because I’ve listened to them for years and haven’t got sick of them yet: a good sign. Some are there because I had to have at least one song by the artist. Some songs have been left out because they seem too popular, according to the jjj website. Some are there because I’m in a grumpy mood. A few – 1, 3, 4, 7 – are there to lighten up what’s a fairly gloomy list.

Before you say anything, my list is clearly superior to yours. So there.

Running
None today, yet. My cold from last week is still there, making me feel a bit blocked up and foggy. It could actually be a new one caught from the kids. They always seem to have some new infection on the go. Anyway, I’m considering postponing today’s planned 10km. Blast it.

eminem

I’m a bit perplexed by this piece of news:

Eminem Bruno stunt at MTC awards

If you missed it – Bruno, a flamboyantly gay character played by Sacha Baron Cohen, flew across the auditorium at the MTV awards before falling, arse up, into Eminem’s lap. He (Eminem) wasn’t too pleased and stormed out in a huff.

I, at first, thought this was some sort of extremely subtle protest on Cohen’s behalf against the quality of Eminem’s latest album, or indeed all of his albums.

Apparently not. The interweb is alive with claims the whole thing was staged. Heavens no!

The theory goes – Cohen’s arse flew with suspiciously unerring accuracy straight for Mr Mathers’ face. Of all the faces in that room, why did it gravitate towards his?

One could speculate that the bum in question was only doing what all bums would secretly like to do. That theory is discounted by the fact that P Diddy was also in the room. What arse in its right mind would go for Eminem when they could go for Diddy?

Either way, it seems it was all some sort of scam. God knows what they were trying to achieve, other than drawing a million bloggers’ attention to themselves.

I guess that worked. I’m still not going to buy his album or single though.

Running
Since last we spoke, I’ve done an average quality long run on Monday afternoon, as well as a recovery session yesterday. All okay.

no music

I’ve had a couple of depressing signs that I’m getting old lately.

Yesterday lunch-time I was wondering around the city, wasting time, as you do. I ended up in JB Hifi, and decided I’d buy myself a CD to cheer myself up.

(Buy a CD? For the Gen Y readers out there – people used to buy whole collections of songs that they called “albums” in various formats, none of which fitted on your iPod and some of which weren’t even digital. Strange, but true.)

Anyway, I found the CD section, after searching through MP3 players, mobile phones, computers, Xbox games and DVDs and had a good look around.

Sadly, there wasn’t a single album in the entire shop I wanted to buy. There was plenty of stuff I’d heard and thought “yeah, that’s okay” but nothing I actually felt like handing over $20 of my hard-earned for.

I’m getting old.

The second sign – that I’m wearing a cardigan to work today – I’m not that worried about. I still kid myself I look cool in an ironic sort of way.

Running
A hills session on a little street course near my house last night. It was a touch cold, and not all that enjoyable, but at least it passed fairly quickly.

The training log says I’m up to 381km for the month. 400km looks very doable.

running gives you energy

It’s counter-intuitive but undeniable – a brisk 10km leaves you feeling more energetic afterwards than when you started.

At 8pm on a Wednesday night when you’ve had a long day, it’s dark and cold outside, and your marathon training plan says you’re supposed to run 18km it’s VERY counter-intuitive. The way I saw it last night, the very idea was evidence of clinical insanity.

I was sorely tempted to pull the plug and spend the night eating mint slices in front of bad TV. (Is there any other kind?).

Thankfully, something – momentum, shame, habit, the lack of mint slices? – pushed me out the door and pure stubbornness got me far enough away from home to make a proper run unavoidable.

I ended up with 19km in just under 90 minutes. Not fast, but in my defence, it was pretty hilly. I had a decent time listening to the entire Goldberg Variations on the MP3 player, plus a little bit of Schumann lieder towards the end.

By the time I got home I was happily humming “Dammrung will die Flugel spreiten, schaurigruhren” and other misunderstood cod-German phrases to myself and considering hugging complete strangers.

Today I had a little lunch-time run with a friend from uni – Ben – who I haven’t seen much of for years, despite the fact he works in my building.

We schlepped it down to the MCG, at any easy chatting pace, then 6 non-chatting sprints up Barack bridge.

Nice.

I don’t get Susan Boyle

As always, I’m at least a few days behind the news. Three quarters of the known universe have watched the clip on YouTube, bought the t-shirt and gone on to talk about something else, but it’s only really today I’ve taken any interest in this Susan Boyle person.

Just in case you managed to miss it, here’s the clip on YouTube.

The story, as far as I understand it, is this: a woman in her 40s, a little plain looking and with an eccentric sense of humour, entered a TV talent show and did a good job singing a song from Les Miserables.

This is supposed to be, in some way, a life-changing, uplifting, amazing moment that had the judges desperately trying to cry through botoxed eyes.

By my way of thinking, it’s only really life-changing if you’ve gone through life assuming 47 year-old women can’t sing, or do anything really.

In short, it’s only really amazing if you’re an idiot.

By way of proof, here’s a comment by “nunally23″ left on the YouTube page:

omg omg omg she can sing really really really good i cant belive that omg omg omg i need som water now.

Or perhaps I’m missing the point. I often do. Enlighten me, if you can.

Running
I wasn’t able to run on Monday, due to work and a rather dramatic evening. (I’ll tell you the story as soon as the libel lawyers clear it). I ran 13.3km on Tuesday afternoon, and 12.5km last night. I have another run scheduled for tonight, in the wind, which I’m not looking forward to particularly.

Sometime last night I passed 1,000 for the year. This month looks like the biggest so far – I’m expecting up to 350km or thereabouts.