There’s something magical about getting a new record album on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Yes, a record album. It feels so good to pull out the freshly pressed vinyl and drop it on the tuntable, hear that first little hiss as the needle touches down (”The Needle has landed,” as Neko Case says) and you’re wisked away to happy times. Anyway, as I pulled the cellophane wrapped LP from the cardboard mailer, Piper wandered over and inquired — after extending birthday wishes to the cover subject — “What’s that?”

“It’s my new record. It’s a new Wilco album. Want to listen to it?”

However we didn’t listen to the LP right then — we had to run out to the hair cuttery for the gals, so we took along the CD that came with the LP and listened to the smaller, more compact version in the car on the way to the chop shop.

Since then, I have probably completed 15 listenings of the entire album (about 6 on the LP — and yes, I think it does sound richer than the CD). I think it might be their best album. Or let me put it another way that I think is more fitting and really a better compliment to them — it is as good as all their others.

“Wilco (the Album)” sort of represents a convergence of the sounds that I’ve heard on their tracks before, but this time it’s all melded together. The first song “Wilco (the song)” — a sonic reassurance to all their fans that regardless of who is out to get you, Wilco has your back — gets things started with a wink and a hug. And the album just goes from there.

Throughout the album, they sound like they are having fun, and the result is that I have fun listening to them having fun. It’s fun, but it’s also confident. This is the most assured Wilco I’ve heard, and while some may not like the produced feel of some of the tracks, there are spots throughout the record where anyone who has seen them live or knows their music well will be saying to themselves, “Man, I can’t imagine what Nils will do on THAT solo live!” or “Hey, that keyboard in the background reminds me of SummerTeeth.”

My favorite song (so far): “Bull Black Nova.” I love how it builds bewteen the frantic emotion of the words and the slightly piercing timbre of the guitar. Not to mention, it has what I think is one of the best repeated guitar riffs in their vast catalog of songs.

This is the kind of Wilco album that someone who has never bought a Wilco album could buy and get a nice taste for their different facets all in one dose. So support the economy — go buy a few copies and distribute to all your friends.

Are Times getting tough?
Are the roads you travel rough?
Have you had enough of the old?
Tired of being exposed to the cold?
Stare of your stereo
Put on your headphones before you explode

I finished “Infinite Jest” this morning, before the kiddos woke up. I’m still trying to process it; I’m not so good with loose, undefined endings. But I certainly did think about the book constantly over the last however-long-it-took-me-to-read-it. I’ll read it again. I hope Alex will read it, too. He’s much better at reading Thinkers than I am.

The new Wilco album arrived in the mail today, which means it’s a good day. We listened to the CD while driving around on our errands today, and we put the record on as soon as we got home. Pi’s favorite is “Wilco (the Song).” She’s singing it right now, while she and Alex dance to “Blue Black Nova.”

The June Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Jasmine of Confessions of a Cardamom Addict and Annemarie of Ambrosia and Nectar. They chose a Traditional (UK) Bakewell Tart… er… pudding that was inspired by a rich baking history dating back to the 1800’s in England.

This month’s Daring Bakers’ Challenge was something I’d never even heard of before, much less baked: the Bakewell Tart. Or pudding. Apparently there’s some disagreement over exactly what it’s called. Wherever your Bakewell allegiances lie, though, I’m pretty sure you’d agree that mine was a complete and utter failure.

It looked lovely when I first pulled it out of the oven — all browned and tart-like. I let it cool a bit, and then I sliced into it. And the interior was a soupy, buttery mess. (From what I gather, the Bakewell tart/pudding is supposed to be somewhat cakey.) Maybe I misread the recipe and used too much butter. I don’t know. But I was already feeling pretty cranky today (because the computer died again today — several times — and now it won’t come on at all), and BakeFailPuddin’Tart? You did not help.
Continue reading ‘Bakewell? Not hardly.’

It’s a good thing I got the computer back this week, because otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to vote in the N Cereal AAs. A.K.A. one more reason to love the Internet.

The folks behind the “Alphabet Exercise” workout DVD sent me a copy for review, and they’re going to send one reader a copy, too. Click on over to enter!

We picked the Utterly Unreliable Computer up from the fix-it folks today, and so far it hasn’t died again. This isn’t because it’s been fixed, though, because that would’ve cost $600. And if I had $600 I would buy a pound of chocolate, not a new LogicBoard.

(That’s probably untrue.)

Anyway.

I fully expected to get the howling fantods from being removed from the computer (and you, dear dear Internet) for that long. But as it turns out, I was fine. I started that book and went to the gym a lot and played with the kids even more and went to the lake. You know, I kinda had a life. And that was nice, so that and (interestingly enough) “Infinite Jest” have me reassessing the way I’m spending my time. Balance, is what I’m looking for, I think. That and lunch. I could definitely go for some lunch.