Yeah, so a little demon has been whispering "marathon" in my ear again lately...now that my hip is finally holding up through medium-long runs (6-8), I've been wondering if I could go longer. Today, I did a 10 with no problems at all (well, minor problems, I am a little sleepy this afternoon and eating like a madwoman), so I guess the next thing would be a 15 and if that goes okay I get out the competitive marathoner's handbook (a dog-eared edition from the late 1980s) and start writing mileage numbers on my calendar.
Anyway, I had forgotten how much time there is to listen to music on these long-ish runs. I got through all of two and most of one more records while out slogging. Here's what I listened to (it's bands in alphabetical order from a playlist of stuff that's either new or in my review pile, plus a few random things...like I got the Fall's "Bury Part 1+2" because it had gone over 30 play counts and I reset it to zero so now iTunes thinks I need to listen to it again...which is a-okay with me.)
Dead Rider, Chills on Glass
I'm reviewing this later, so let me be superficial...this is Todd Rittman's most polished and R&B redolent excursion into post-rock dystopia, it slinks and sashays through cratered desolation and recoils stylishly from bristling barbs of guitar noise. It reminds me of that W.B. Yeats poem, "The Second Coming" for some reason, perhaps I'll figure out why (or more likely it'll stop reminding me) before I write my review.
Ex-Cult, Midnight Passenger
First time through this, and oh hell yes, I like it a lot, a spikily corrosive kind of punk rock that reminds me of the Wipers, the Observers and (a couple of times) the Zero Boys. It's out in April. I have to figure out how I can write about it.
Frances Harris, Minutes of Sleep
Also the first time through...no, not quite, I had dipped into a couple of tracks before and gotten distracted by the sparseness of the beat, like wha? isn't there any music? but the good thing about running and headphones is that you're not distracted, you are using the music as a distraction from boredom and tired-ness, so you hear everything, and there's jazz blowing in the window on this, jazz like you'd forgotten it for a year or two and then suddenly remembered how it sounded...it's very soft, but beautiful...
Showing posts with label marathons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marathons. Show all posts
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
I’m back
I was in Philadelphia and then NYC this weekend and had a really pretty great time.
I ran the Philadelphia Marathon on Sunday (3:48 something I think...maybe 3:49) and did not spectacularly, but not so terrible.
I also visited the Philadelphia Art Museum, where the special exhibit was by an Italian artist named Michaelangelo Pistoletto, who was, among other things, apparently fascinated with mirrors. He painted on them, lifesize figures on mirror-like backgrounds, which is cool, because when you go to look at them, you and other other people in the museum are also, sort of, in the painting. And when they are on facing walls, you can see the painting you’re looking at and the one behind it and, reflected in that, the one you’re looking at, and so on and so on and so on. You can see me taking a photo in this one.
I also went to NYC and did not very much of note, but got to see a few of my friends and had a couple of very nice meals, so that was good.
And now I’m back and have all kinds of stuff up on the web, including this review of a record by Masonic, when ran yesterday in Venus.
This Texas dream pop outfit spins bittersweet webs of Left Banke-ish melody over the muted roar of shoegazy guitar effects on their fifth full-length album. Three of the five Masonic’s are brothers—John and Kevin Mason switching off on guitar and keyboards, sibling Brian on rackety, dust-kicking drums—but their not-so-secret weapon is singer Eryn Gettys. She has a glossy, early ‘60s pop voice, warm and sweetly luxuriant, buoyant and breezy yet undercut with hard-won experience. An undercurrent of vulnerability, as on the plaintive “They Wanted So Much,” in Gettys unfailingly smooth, on-key delivery connects her to the craft of French café singers, while a dreamy gauziness ties her to ‘90s vocalists like the Sundays’ Harriett Wheeler. She is poised and professional, even mildly detached, as she sings about the most rueful sort of romantic discoveries.
More
“Lifetime of Deception”
I ran the Philadelphia Marathon on Sunday (3:48 something I think...maybe 3:49) and did not spectacularly, but not so terrible.
I also visited the Philadelphia Art Museum, where the special exhibit was by an Italian artist named Michaelangelo Pistoletto, who was, among other things, apparently fascinated with mirrors. He painted on them, lifesize figures on mirror-like backgrounds, which is cool, because when you go to look at them, you and other other people in the museum are also, sort of, in the painting. And when they are on facing walls, you can see the painting you’re looking at and the one behind it and, reflected in that, the one you’re looking at, and so on and so on and so on. You can see me taking a photo in this one.
I also went to NYC and did not very much of note, but got to see a few of my friends and had a couple of very nice meals, so that was good.
And now I’m back and have all kinds of stuff up on the web, including this review of a record by Masonic, when ran yesterday in Venus.
This Texas dream pop outfit spins bittersweet webs of Left Banke-ish melody over the muted roar of shoegazy guitar effects on their fifth full-length album. Three of the five Masonic’s are brothers—John and Kevin Mason switching off on guitar and keyboards, sibling Brian on rackety, dust-kicking drums—but their not-so-secret weapon is singer Eryn Gettys. She has a glossy, early ‘60s pop voice, warm and sweetly luxuriant, buoyant and breezy yet undercut with hard-won experience. An undercurrent of vulnerability, as on the plaintive “They Wanted So Much,” in Gettys unfailingly smooth, on-key delivery connects her to the craft of French café singers, while a dreamy gauziness ties her to ‘90s vocalists like the Sundays’ Harriett Wheeler. She is poised and professional, even mildly detached, as she sings about the most rueful sort of romantic discoveries.
More
“Lifetime of Deception”
Monday, May 31, 2010
What'd you do this weekend?
I ran the Vermont City Marathon.
#715 overall
#11 in my extremely decrepit category
#122 among the women
Splits
10 mile 1:20:12
Half Marathon 1:47:01
20 miles 2:50:25 (quite a BIT slower, but this is when I started seeing visions and hearing voices)
Finish 3:48:07
Pace 8:42
I've got a new mix coming, just checking the transitions.
Also I have been thinking about my top ten mid-year and might be ready to go public with that in a day or two.
#715 overall
#11 in my extremely decrepit category
#122 among the women
Splits
10 mile 1:20:12
Half Marathon 1:47:01
20 miles 2:50:25 (quite a BIT slower, but this is when I started seeing visions and hearing voices)
Finish 3:48:07
Pace 8:42
I've got a new mix coming, just checking the transitions.
Also I have been thinking about my top ten mid-year and might be ready to go public with that in a day or two.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Not the Fall, but who is?
OK, first a word about my marathon. I did a 3:50, which would be fairly disgraceful if I were 25, but is not so, so bad when I am 47. I felt pretty good afterwards. I listened to tunes the whole way, on random, and decided that...
1. BRMC's "American X" may not be a great song overall, but it is a fantastic song for running long distance to. It goes on and on, and envelopes you in a dark, echoey cave. If you listen to it twice in a row, you can get 2 miles out of the way just like that.
2. Glenn Mercer's "Wheels in Motion" is quite possibly a great song, but its languid beat and insistence that there is no hurry about ANYTHING is simply not helpful.
3. It is good to have friends along. When Dustdevil's version of "Hip Priest" came on, it was like having a good buddy cheering from the sidelines...when Dave DeCastro's "All that Remains" followed, I felt like the god of random shuffling was looking out for me.
4. You can't really listen to music after about 21 miles. You hear it. You can't process it. You also can't count to ten.
Oh, and I have a review up today, of a band that sort of, kind of sounds like the FAll, but I forgive them because I don't think they actually meant to copy.
XX Teens
Welcome to Goon Island
(Mute)
US release date: 30 September 2008
UK release date: 28 July 2008
by Jennifer Kelly
Another Prole Art Threat
The Fall would have to rank high on anybody’s list of bands impossible to imitate. Even if you got the right rumbly-clanking bass line, even if the drums were suitably claustrophobic and robotic, even if you found an arresting but meaningless phrase to repeat over and over, the fact remains: you are not Mark E. Smith. End of story. So, when I say that XX Teens come close, that’s not nothing. It’s a fairly remarkable accomplishment. It’s even more impressive since it may not be what they’re aiming for.
Welcome to Goon Island is the first full-length for this London-based, art-school-credentialed quintet, a barrage of stuttering, bass-buzzing beats; oblique, sometimes surreally funny lyrics; and stinging, minimalist guitars. That’s the basic recipe, but there is no shortage of added ingredients. You will also hear, at various intervals, a full-brass band, a 2 Tone saxophone, steel drums, syrupy harp arpeggios and a long monologue with peace activist Brian Haws. The phrase “anything goes” comes to mind.
Read the rest here
“Darlin’”
1. BRMC's "American X" may not be a great song overall, but it is a fantastic song for running long distance to. It goes on and on, and envelopes you in a dark, echoey cave. If you listen to it twice in a row, you can get 2 miles out of the way just like that.
2. Glenn Mercer's "Wheels in Motion" is quite possibly a great song, but its languid beat and insistence that there is no hurry about ANYTHING is simply not helpful.
3. It is good to have friends along. When Dustdevil's version of "Hip Priest" came on, it was like having a good buddy cheering from the sidelines...when Dave DeCastro's "All that Remains" followed, I felt like the god of random shuffling was looking out for me.
4. You can't really listen to music after about 21 miles. You hear it. You can't process it. You also can't count to ten.
Oh, and I have a review up today, of a band that sort of, kind of sounds like the FAll, but I forgive them because I don't think they actually meant to copy.
XX Teens
Welcome to Goon Island
(Mute)
US release date: 30 September 2008
UK release date: 28 July 2008
by Jennifer Kelly
Another Prole Art Threat
The Fall would have to rank high on anybody’s list of bands impossible to imitate. Even if you got the right rumbly-clanking bass line, even if the drums were suitably claustrophobic and robotic, even if you found an arresting but meaningless phrase to repeat over and over, the fact remains: you are not Mark E. Smith. End of story. So, when I say that XX Teens come close, that’s not nothing. It’s a fairly remarkable accomplishment. It’s even more impressive since it may not be what they’re aiming for.
Welcome to Goon Island is the first full-length for this London-based, art-school-credentialed quintet, a barrage of stuttering, bass-buzzing beats; oblique, sometimes surreally funny lyrics; and stinging, minimalist guitars. That’s the basic recipe, but there is no shortage of added ingredients. You will also hear, at various intervals, a full-brass band, a 2 Tone saxophone, steel drums, syrupy harp arpeggios and a long monologue with peace activist Brian Haws. The phrase “anything goes” comes to mind.
Read the rest here
“Darlin’”
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