Mark emailed me today sharing the good news for people who love "Good News for People Who Love Bad News" That's right, it's a new Modest Mouse album. Since leaving college I have been really quite ill-informed about the latest machinations of any bands. I don't have the energy or ability really to follow the comings and goings of various singers and drummers, the emergence of new sounds, the best new bands or the hottest albums. I'm quickly and inexorably giving up whatever modicum of cool I once desperately clung to. It's all over now. But, that said, I still like a whole bunch of bands, and enjoy new music. So I was excited by Mark's email. New Modest Mouse and what's that you say, there will be songs where Isaac Brock is joined by the lead singer from The Shins--well sign me up.
After a little searching I found a site where you can listen to some of the new songs live. They sound pretty good.
Though, for me at least, it's always hard to figure out from live recordings and performances what songs I'll really love. I guess I'm not as much of a concert goer. I don't respond as viscerally to some songs live as I do to them recorded. Maybe I'm more of a movie guy than a theater guy. The element of live performance doesn't always make it better for me. There is something magical in live performace, I'll certainly agree with that. But for me the miracle of art is being able to share it with people, and I often feel cheated by live art for just this reason. I feel so saddened to think that I've seen something that I won't be able to share with others, that I won't be able to recreate, won't be able to experience again. I am still sad, a little, that I cannot see Ann's senior recital whenever I want. I loved that dance piece (and hell, even did the lights, and contributed the idea for a lift and jump to the piece) and that I cannot show it to Mark or Jess or anyone else who wasn't there, that's tough. I know it should make me feel special, I saw it. I had that experience. But it's quite the opposite, instead of feeling special I feel alone. Instead of feeling blessed I feel burdened, here is this amazing art this incredible experience that I have had and I cannot do it just in explanation and I cannot share it with others. I guess that's part of why live music doesn't do as much for me. Oh, that and the fact that it's a lot of standing in a crowded smoky room, it's noisy, and it involves staying up late. But for me, and for my own self image, I'm going to pretend it's this high minded frustration with the temporary nature, with the inability of the joy to be adequately shared or conveyed, the "survivor's guilt" of great art, if you will.