Archive for the ‘Arcade Fire’ Tag

The Wonders of the MP3 Converter

Tuesday, February 12th, 2013

Hello to all cats curled up on chairs twitching in their sleep, snow on rooftops, and rubber bands in the shape of Yoda.
I discovered this beautiful, beautiful thing yesterday. It’s known as a Youtube to MP3 converter. Shall I explain? Well, basically, any video at all on Youtube can easily be converted into a glorious MP3 that I can put into a happy little playlist and listen to on my computer. Is it legal? Dunno. Don’t care. I’ve been in Arcade Fire bliss this morning, listening to all their unreleased demo songs… sigh…
So yeah. I also downloaded a Camera Obscura song and it’s seriously great. The name of one of their albums is ‘Underacheivers Please Try Harder.’ That made me laugh. While we’re talking about underachievers, I had a bunch of weird dreams last night, containing a really neat car with flames coming out of the wheels, and also another one of those classroom-school dreams that tend to invade my unconscious sleeping mind once in a while. In my school dream I was filling out some math questions, and then I got fed up, ran outside, and got lost in a strange factory with antelope running around as The Shins played an odd rendition of the Harry Potter theme song on a stage in the corner. I have a feeling that’s one of those dreams I’m going to have to repress.
Anyway, getting back to the MP3 converter. I’m so, so happy. I’ll never understand people who don’t like listening to music– for me it’s an essential part of existence. Finding good songs is like discovering new worlds, stepping into a black and white movie or experiencing a neat dream. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by a particularly great song– like everything by Arcade Fire, basically. I’m greatly jealous of songs that can do that to me, I wish I could write music like that.
One of those songs is King Rat by Modest Mouse. They’re the weirdest. Band. In the universe. The guy who sings sounds like he’s insane, but it’s such an AWESOME INSANITY! When I listen to that song, I feel inexpressibly happy in a crazy way.
So that MP3 converter thing is pretty darn awesome. I could listen to weird unreleased Arcade Fire songs forever.

A List Of Weird Unreleased Arcade Fire Songs I Could Listen To Forever:
1. Winter For a Year
2. Cars and Telephones
3. Sonata
4. In the Attic
5. Cold Wind

That’s all I have to say this cloudy Tuesday. I’m listening to Cars and Telephones as I watch some dark birds flying against the white, snowy afternoon sky. Ah. Bliss. ~Onceabasementdog


Impersonating Fictional Characters Is Fun!

Thursday, December 13th, 2012

Hello to all feathers, drifting softly through the sunlit air, coconuts on beaches, and airships caught in hurricanes.

If you’re on an airship caught in a hurricane: first, check to make sure you’re not just a reference of Skybreaker. If you’re not, then try flying above the hurricane into clearer sky. If this is not possible, batton down the hatches, or whatever you do on airships, get ready the parachutes or lifeboats, in case you’re flying over the sea. Send out a distress signal for help. And take a picture while you’re at it– I need stuff to blog about, thanks.

So, it’s a moderately cold Tuesday (or… Wednesday?) here in Onceabasementdogville, and obviously I’m VERY up to date, because I really do know what day it is and everything. Lately I’ve been avoiding my blog as much as possible, due to, well, stress mainly, because I’ve got like TWO DOZEN followers holy moly, jeez, where’d you all come from? And that’s a lot of expectations to satisfy. I feel like I have to be funny every time I blog, and sometimes it just doesn’t come to me. I try, but the funny plays a wicked game– sometimes I can write for ages and all of it’s mildly amusing, and sometimes I just stare deeply into the screen trying to desperately come up with a way to make something funny out of the word bookmark. Maybe I shouldn’t have been trying to make something funny out of the word bookmark. It’s just… not a funny word. Book-mark. Book… mark. It marks books, okay? That’s all it does.

Anyway, today I was getting into politics. I could like, talk about that… but no. I have something more interesting to relay to you, dear Blog-Reader.

It’s no secret two thirds of my waking life is taken up with staring at walls and scribbling sketches of dreamy fantasy heroes and then throwing them out because I feel like no one should ever look at them. (I’m probably right. Even MY eyes hurt when I look at them, and I created them.) So often, in the midst of this extreme wall-staring boredom, I do crazy things. Sometimes I interview the ladies who work at the local bookstore with my camera and pretend I’m doing a ‘documentary about bookstores’ so it isn’t so weird. Sometimes I dance in frightful, spasmatic circles in my room while I listen to Arcade Fire songs. Often, I take up residence on the chair in my room and gaze at the walls. Today, though, I held an interview– with myself.

Except, it wasn’t technically with myself. I mean, it was. But I was pretending to be this character from a Kenneth Oppel book. It was fun. I must be losing my mind, but it really was fun– I think I’ve got some strange, best-kept-secret talent for impersonating random characters from fantasy books, or sometimes from TV shows. I do a mean Drusilla from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Anyway, it was the middle of the day and the house was empty, and my sister Little Girl of Horrors was out with my dad, and I had a sudden itch to interview myself with my old analog camera. I’ve done that in the past– conjured up imaginary characters and interviewed them. You don’t even want to know how weird it’s gotten. So I pulled on a black coat and assumed the persona of a fantasy character. I owned it, seriously. I hear they’re making a movie.


Yes, yes, I was assuming the character of Victor Frankenstein. Maybe that’s the absolute height of weirdness, but who cares? It was fun and as long as nobody ever sees that video, I won’t mind that it exists.

There’s probably something else of interest to talk about. Dunno. If you like books, then you’ll be glad to know I like books, too, and I’m reading this one called ‘The Scorpio Races’ by the lady who wrote that series that tried to imitate Twilight, except it was about werewolves. I never picked up that series, but The Scorpio Races is pretty good, so far. There’s something to it, anyway. I don’t like that the heroine is kind of lame, but she has her moments of coolness, so that sort of makes up for that. The hero is the usual teen fiction romantic interest stereotype. Calm, collected, powerful– can command man-eating horses. And by the way he would ‘be almost handsome if his features weren’t quite so sharp.’ Well, that’s that. I’m glad I know.

So, that book I’m trying to get published is still floating around not being published yet, and I’m still waiting for the possible rejection letter. The heroine in it is NOT lame at all, and I wish more heroines would be that way. They say girls are being better represented in books these days, but I still don’t quite believe it.

Anyway. I feel all sleepy and bored. I was going to write a poem about bookmarks, but all I can come up with is this meager offering:

Once I owned me a bookmark;

Twas eaten along with me book

By an angry book-eating shark.

There you are. ~Onceabasementdog

The Best Dream Ever and Mr. Rochester’s Mustache

Sunday, August 5th, 2012

Hello to all people on unicycles crashing into fences, pears in baskets, railings, and curtain designers.

This morning I had the best. Dream. Ever.

I was substituting for the lead singer of Arcade Fire. We were playing in front of this enormous crowd– and the first song was Month of May, and I was totally killing it. It was the epic-est dream I’ve ever had– usually my dreams are just downright depressing, like for instance, that one I had a few years ago where a giant squid-woman was scooping people up and eating them, or maybe the one where I rescued a colony of mice living in a jail and then they ran out and fell off a cliff. The Arcade Fire dream was absolutely fantastic, in any case, and it would’ve went on longer if the Mother hadn’t walked in… just then… as I was having the most incredible dream of my existence… and woke me up.

(Here I twitch a few times.)

In other news, yesterday I watched the 1980-something version of Jane Eyre. It wasn’t good, nor was it especially bad– and I’m sure I would’ve enjoyed it more if MR. ROCHESTER HADN’T HAD A MUSTACHE.

The actor was annoying enough to begin with– he didn’t capture his character at all, at least in my opinion– but he would’ve been fine, bearable even, if he just didn’t have that fr-icking mustache. I realize it was the eighties, and everyone had a mustache and bad hair, but in Mr. Rochester’s case it just made him look like a loser! A mustache-bearing loooooooser! I tried to picture him without it, or to just ignore it, but it was impossible. Every time there was a shot of his face ALL I SAW WAS THE MUSTACHE. I mean, the lady playing Jane was absolutely perfect– but the mustache just ruined everything. Everything.

Now my view of Jane Eyre is colored by the mustache. If I ever read the book again every time Mr. Rochester says something all I’m going to think about is that thing on his face, that horrible thing on his face. I have to see the newest version, and cleanse my mind of the mustache– hopefully that Mr. Rochester doesn’t have one. If he does I might have to take matters into my own hands and make a version of Jane Eyre myself, where Mr. Rochester is clean shaven, God help me.

Anyway. It’s another stupidly hot day in Onceabasementdogville, and I do fear I shall melt into a puddle of gloop. It’s really just ridiculous out there. Things will start spontaneously bursting into flame soon.

In other words, there is no possibility of taking a walk today. Yours as untruly as never, (did I use that one already?), ~Onceabasementdog.

‘On Seeing Mr. Rochester’s Mustache’

‘Twas a day in the middle of a hot, lonely summer,

And all things considered, my life was a bummer.

We rented Jane Eyre, assuming it would be fair,

But all was then ruined by the thing on his face

That was hair.

The girl playing Jane was fine, I exclaim!

But the mustache was torturing me with intense mental pain.

I must needs discover who casted this man,

And then went on to suggest a mustache was an excellent plan.

Charlotte Bronte frowns down on the mustache,

And… I send my regards to my dear friend… Eustache.

(Well? You go ahead and tell me what rhymes with mustache.)


Indie Girl’s Indie Favorites

Thursday, July 26th, 2012

Hello to all my wrist is still in a cast so too bad no lengthy quirky opening for you.

Because I’m incapable of: playing guitar, typing for long periods of time, riding my bike, enjoying life or scaling cliffs, I’ve fallen back to music. For the last day or so I’ve been in a flurry of music-listening. Because I can’t PLAY music, I had to find some other way to satisfy my musical needs, and therefore, today I have a list for you. This list is a top ten of the best bands in the entire circumference of the universe as I see it. It goes by pure awesomneness, and therefore at the top of the list is…

1. Arcade Fire

who are the most talented group of musical weirdoes you will ever, ever see.

2. MewithoutYou

who, contrary to first listen, are fantastic. Be not swayed by the screaming.

3. Of Monsters and Men

who are a band of Icelandic freaks.

4 . Fleet Foxes

who may look like they belong in the seventies but are all the more awesome for it.

5. The Shins

who are so good it’s scary. Seriously, look at the music video for The Rifle’s Spiral. Scary.

6. The Black Keys

who rock.

7. Florence and the Machine

who isn’t a band, but is so good she had to be on my list.

8. Death Cab For Cutie

who have the awesomest name ever.

9. The Head and the Heart

whose lead singer has a fedora that looks exactly like mine.

10. The Sepia Trees

who you may not have heard of. I certainly have no connection with this band.

Who didn’t quite make the list# They are: Modest Mouse, Mumford & Sons, Tokyo Police Club, and Hey Rosetta!.

There you have it. Now, because I’m so bored and hobbled by my injuries, and would otherwise have nothing to do,  I’ll add my top five favorite albums of all time:

1. Funeral — Arcade Fire

2. Ten Stories — MewithoutYou

3. Ceremonials — Florence and the Machine

4. My Head Is An Animal — Of Monsters and Men

5. The Head and the Heart

There you have it. Now your existence is complete.

If you’re interested in checking out any of these bands, I recommend Wake Up by Arcade Fire, or Neighbourhood #2– The Cave by Mumford & Sons, Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men, Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart, and The Fox, the Crow, and the Cookie by MewithoutYou. I urge you to offer your opinions or agreements or disagreements in a comment, because I’m so, so bored today with my crippled arm and leg, and you don’t want me to sit around feeling sorry for myself, do you##

Yours ever so insincerely, ~Onceacrippledbasementdog

My Brain Is A 90s TV Show

Wednesday, June 20th, 2012

Hello to all scratched-out song lyrics, men with eyeshadow and symbols on their foreheads delivering emotionless lines in ridiculously awful sci-fi shows, and never-used golf clubs.

As I was sitting here, wandering about the internet, biting the cold sore on my lip to see if that would get rid of it (it didn’t), I realized something about myself. If you were to take a listen to my thoughts at any point in time, you’d be hearing My So Called Life-esque observances and narratives.

What’s My So Called Life? Well, it was a short-running TV show in the nineties about a somewhat unusual girl in high school.

Um. Ahem. Yes. Look here.

Well, okay– I’m not in high school. I SHOULD be in high school. But I’m not. I’m actually in Solitary Confinement, (no, no, I’m not incurably demented), but, technically, I’m connected somehow to high school. Anyway, getting back to my brain and how it runs like a narrative from My So Called Life. Well, if you’ve ever seen the show, then you know how Angela thinks: ‘ People are always saying you should be yourself, like yourself is this definite thing, like a toaster. Like you know what it is even.’ This is the type of thing that runs around in MY head. You could have fifty thirty-minute episodes’ worth of musing narratives if you wrote down everything that goes through my brain. And I’m not saying HBO should make a TV show based on me or anything. (HBO, why aren’t you listening to me? Do I have to try to convince ABC instead or something? ABC, I understand you also aired My So Called Life. Look no further for the next teenage-drama blockbuster. I’m right here. Right. Here.)

What fueled this blog entry was the thought that drifted through my head a few minutes ago as I stared at the computer screen clicking through other WordPress blogs. I was thinking, It’s funny how everyone on this website has an ‘About’ page. It’s a non-discussed norm in WordPress-world. I wonder if there’s anyone who DOESN’T have an ‘about’ page. Maybe people would think they’re weird.

No lie. This is what I was thinking about. ABC wouldn’t even have to get writers for my TV show. It’s all ready-made.

Anyway. I already know what the theme song will sound like– I already have a bunch of ideas for ads and marketing campaigns. All they have to do is hire some people to play my friends, (because I’m playing myself,  of course.) Do you think Alec Baldwin for the Karate Master? No… that doesn’t make sense.

I’m already wildly off track, so let’s make a list of possible actors for the people in my life.

George Harrison: Woody Allen. (Even though he’s really old.)

Karate Master: Alec Baldwin. (Even though that doesn’t make sense.)

Budding Satirist: Sascha Baron Cohen.

The Mom: Maryl Streep.

The Father: Alec Baldwin. (Yes, that makes more sense.) Alec Baldwin, I hope you don’t mind playing a Chinese kid and my dad at the same time.

Little Girl of Horrors (also known as my little sister): Tina Fey. (She’d do a great impression, I’m sure.)

Glasses Boy: Tony Shalhoub.

So there you have it. ABC, or HBO, or whichever one is going to sign a contract for fifty episodes for the show Onceabasementdog, (airing nine o’clock on Sundays), you’ve already got the whole thing more or less planned out. Also, I want J.J Abrams to direct it and Steven Spielberg to produce it, and go ahead and throw in Arcade Fire every couple episodes just to make it better.

Yours not a toaster but not normal, either, Onceabasementdog.

Do Not Sing and Dance to Arcade Fire in Front of a Window

Tuesday, May 8th, 2012

Hello to all burnt-out streetlights, old folks, next-door neighbors, and older brothers.

I’m sure there are many lessons to learn in life. I’ve learned a few of them already, but today I learned a new one:If you’re going to sing and dance along to Arcade Fire, don’t do it in front of a window.

Why? Because neighbors are nosy people, that’s why. The strange painter woman who lives next door was going to her car, I guess, and meanwhile I was going mildly insane in my room dancing to some Arcade Fire songs. Not only was the curtain draw back, the window was also open. So I believe she not only saw me dancing like a lunatic but also heard me singing like a lunatic. Now, I’m a pretty decent singer, at least. I’m sure she enjoyed my ear-splitting rendition of Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels). But am I a good dancer? Er… well, I’m awfully good at ‘improvisational contemporary.’ 

Anyway, when I chanced to look out the window, there she was: staring at me.

Well, look, I’ve seen her painting weird modern art in her living room once or twice. Besides, she’s actually crazy, I think: me, I just looked crazy. And honestly, you see someone enjoying some Arcade Fire songs, you don’t stare at them: this is what I choose to do on a rainy Tuesday afternoon, and who is she to judge me, or gape at me? I’m just a stir-crazy girl finding something to do whilst stuck in Solitary Confinement.

I feel a little silly anyway. It’s probably the birthday cake and enormous bottle of Sprite I had today that inspired that Arcade Fire-dance fest.

But you know, it’s good to be weird. Dancing seizure-like to your favorite songs is cool. Among the other crazy things I do (like biking to the river just to read Frankenstein in a tree), this one isn’t so high on the weird scale. Anyways, I wish you an excellent miserably rainy Tuesday (or how is it where you are, Blog-Reader? Maybe you’re sitting on a balcony in San Diego or lying on a beach in Florida. Want to come live in a bleak, cold climate of the north where it snows in April? Huh? Huh?)

WordPress thinks it’s Wednesday, but WordPress also offered a tag for Mongolia on my last blog post– so it’s not always right.

Yours insert-something-quirky-here, Onceabasementdog.