Music

I Only Wanted to See You Laughing in the Purple Rain



Dearly beloved
We are gathered here today
To get through this thing called life
Electric word life
It means forever and that's a mighty long time
But I'm here to tell you
There's something else
The after world
A world of never ending happiness
You can always see the sun, day or night
So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills
You know the one, Dr. Everything'll Be Alright
Instead of asking him how much of your time is left
Ask him how much of your mind, baby
'Cause in this life
Things are much harder than in the after world
In this life
You're on your own
 
Heartbroken by the loss of a true musical genius.  RIP Prince.  

Teenage Wasteland

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Last week, I was lucky enough to go see Joan Jett & The Blackhearts and The Who live at the Barclay Center. In some ways, it was like a time machine, transporting me back to junior high and high school days, when I listed to both a lot more often than I currently do. In particular, I remembered that every one of our high school dances ended with Baba O'Reilly -- such a weird choice, in retrospect.  Every time I hear that song, I think of high school dances. Life was much simpler then . . .


An Ode to Musical Theatre

During the past week, I bought tix to see the upcoming performance of Little Shop of Horrors, with Ellen Greene (she originated the role of Audrey), saw Hedwig (again), and made an unplanned stop to Marie's Crisis Cafe, where I sang my little musical theatre heart out, including a duet of Suddenly Seymour. I was also reminded of this gem, from Avenue Q. Musical theatre was a huge part of my life for so long, and although it's not as much in the forefront these days, it's always in the background, deep in my heart.


Sweet Dreams

In the past few years, sleep has become more and more sacred to me. I regularly get about 7 hours; 8 on a good night, and even more on leisurely weekends. 6 or less and I get cranky, lack concentration, and have zero motivation to exercise. This effectively gives me a solid curfew on school nights these days of about 11, or maybe midnight if I'm close to home. Last night, I went to go see a band in Williamsburg with two of my law school friends with whom I used to go see bands all the time. When we first made the plans, we thought the band was starting at 8. Then we learned there was an opening band at 8 and our band was on at 9. This was perfect -- it allowed for a quick stop at home to walk Mox, and ample time to get to Brooklyn and catch up over dinner before the band started. Late in the day we learned our band was slated to start at 10.

Now, I'm the only one in the group that isn't married with kids, but one friend is (and never was) a night owl, and one of my friends had to deal with the additional schlep of a train back to Long Island at the end of the evening, so we weren't thrilled with the 10pm start. Of course, because we're dealing with a cool, hip band in Williamsburg, they didn't actually go on until about 10:50.  Let's just say I'm a little tired today, but it would have been worse if I had stayed until the band finished. I was the first man down -- pathetic, I know. My law school self would be terribly disappointed.