Julie Andrews is f*cking hot. I don’t know what spurred me to post this, but she is the most underrated beauty of the last 60 years. She’s like a cannonball of cuteness beaming with talent and laughter. She’s Emma Watson 1.0. Yes, I’m still straight.
This is my family. We wandered along the beach to watch the sunset for Christmas. We then got korean food takeout and watched sunday night football at home. It was perfect.
UC Davis police employed a brand of pepper spray called Defense Technology on peaceful student protesters. The lowest concentration, 0.2 percent, is authorized for tactical deployment. A concentration of 1.3 percent is powerful enough to stop a bear. The type used on the students has a rating of 0.7 percent. The manufacturer recommends the spray be used at a minimum distance of six feet, yet the officers in this case sprayed it on sitting students at near-point blank range.
I won’t lie and pretend to know or particularly care about the Occupy protests, but this is absolutely stupid. What the hell is he thinking here? We need equal and immediate retribution for crimes like these and we need to broadcast it on my network television series “F*cked Up!”
Vince Gill at The Troubadour 11/16/11.
Can’t remember the last time I paid $25 to see a 20-time Grammy winner play a venue that fits less than 250 people. Did I mention he played for 2 hours and 45 minutes with no intermission or opening act? This is why I love country music.
The guitar playin warn’t bad neither.
Vince told about a dozen stories throughout the night. Stories about his badass judge dad and his inspirations for songs like Cowboy Up (Levitra) and Go Rest High on That Mountain. He spoke a lot about his first time playing the Troubador 35 years ago. He was 19, had just moved to LA and the Troubadour was his first gig. In the audience that night? His two biggest idols: Emmylou Harris and Rodney Crowell. Vince actually covered one of Rodney’s songs that night and was invited up to the dressing room. He and Rodney became best friends and Emmylou wanted to write with him. Talk about fate.
Back for the first time in 35 years last night, Vince walked up on stage, strapped in his tele and took a good long look at the audience staring back at him. No greeting, no wave, but he had that trademark Vince Gill-ian warmth in his face and the first words out of his mouth were, “it’s gonna be some crazy shit in here tonight.” The band rolled into One More Last Chance and kicked ass for the next two and a half hours.
Feist at The Wiltern 11/12/11
Chilly Gonzales opened. Funny and brilliantly entertaining with his spiel on politics and transposing well-known major key songs into minor. Minor version of Ode to Joy and Happy Birthday were particularly “jewish” as he noted. Chilly’s piano playing is furious and reminds me why the piano is in the percussion family. Loved it.
Feist is a songbird in every way. She sings her between song banter. Her voice is clear as a bell and her guitar playing is sparse and tactful. The songs take on a whole new life (as they should) in a live environment and her music is so incredibly dynamic if you let it breathe with a full band onstage. Metals has a significantly darker tone than her previous two albums, but the sounds were deep last night. The highlight for me was My Moon My Man which was timed perfectly and loud as fuck. Love it when drummers do that.
(photo credit: Timothy Norris)
