Okay, so I’m a dork. But so is M! We killed our Sunday afternoon by sitting in front of the fire and playing back-to-back games of Carcassonne with all the expansions I own: Abbey & Mayor, Princess & Dragon, Traders & Builders, Inns & Cathedrals, The Tower, The King & Robber, The River 1 & 2, and Cult & Siege. M won the first, and I won the second. In both cases, the winner had north of 400 points!
Before … and after.
Worst album art I’ve seen in a long while, from Michaelangelo, an early-’70s U.S. folk-rock band. This was released on Columbia.
While in DC, I picked up a vinyl copy of Silverhead’s 1972 self-titled debut. I was expecting something a bit more quirky, but it’s really not as wild as the recommendation I had read a couple years ago. You can draw a straight line from Silverhead to Ratt, which is really just to say it’s more or less just good old-fashioned pop-rock. Sure, there are some T. Rex moments, to be expected as the two groups were peers and fellow countrymen. But this really falls closer to the Slade/New York Dolls side of the glam coin than the T. Rex/David Bowie side. Hear for yourself.
Silverhead — “Ace Supreme”
Silverhead — “Long-Legged Lisa”
Silverhead — “Sold Me Down the River”
Filed under: board games, family, food, politics, rest & relaxation | Tags: Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is over, and I can finally say enough, already …
1. Pumpkin dessert. M made her beloved (by my family, anyway) pumpkin bar dessert to take with us to my parents’ house, but we left it on the kitchen counter. Consensus among family members dictated that a redo was in order, so she remade it. And I ate it. A lot of it. Including two large pieces topped with a mighty dollop of cool whip at midnight right before going to bed.
2. Carcassonne. I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t want to play any Carc for a few days. I introduced the game to my family, expecting a lukewarm acceptance. Well, turns out they loved it. We played about six games in two days.
3. Board games, in general. We also played three games of Ticket to Ride and a rather roundly disliked match of Cranium.
4. Firewood. As is typical when I visit my parents, I helped my dad fell a tree. He has a wood-burning stove in the basement and the shed. That means he has a need for firewood. In my own house, so do I. So in exchange for a trunkload of firewood, we got to work.
5. The paper thin walls at my parents’ house. Seriously. You can hear everything, everywhere, which makes sleeping in those extra 30 minutes nearly impossible.
6. Breakfast. Yuck. My family hearts a breakfast of soupy-egg casserole.
7. Long walks. How did I get corralled into taking a 45-minute walk in the 40-degree cold immediately after Turkey Dinner? I’d rather fall into the typical post-dinner comatose, thank you very much.
8. Conversations about the bailouts with my family. Simply bizarre.
9. Movies. The process of selecting a movie that might appeal to (mostly women) ranging in age from 12 to 73 produces … wait for it … Baby Mama.
10. Gas. My family knows how to bring it.
But a few highlights exist from this go round …
1. Ping pong. I still got game. And the same paddles my friends and me played with in high school — even the paddle that Dustin stripped of its padding on one side and replaced with a NIN sticker.
2. Pumpkin dessert. I may be sick of it, but there’s a good reason I ate so much.
3. Chloe the dog. She’s an English Springer Spaniel and a constant reminder that I do love dogs, too — especially their eternal energy.
Thank you for introducing me Settlers of Catan on Facebook. I now have something to do until three in the morning.
If you’ve ever visited my house, you know I love vintage photography. This site is just chock full of it, and you can download hi-res photos.
M and I played a couple two-player games, and while they were fun I can see how the game would be far more challenging with more players. I’m used to the wooden features of Carcassonne, so the plastic train pieces give the game a cheaper feel. But the board sure is pretty to look at. This should be a nice change of pace game to mix it up.
Boing Boing posted a link to a newer collection of Swedish band photography from the ’70s and ’80s. I stumbled across this similar collection several years ago, which is where I got the header for my old site. The Gert Johnnys show up in each batch, deservedly so.
A new header (above), for one of my favorite bands.
I didn’t truly fall in love with The Kinks until about four years ago. I’m not sure why I had never fully dug through their catalog, but it was a reviewer who had lauded Face to Face as an equal to Sgt. Peppers and Pet Sounds that peaked my interest. Up until then, my experience with The Kinks was primarily tied to their first two records and a smattering of their other hits, like “David Watts” and “Victoria.” (The first time I ever heard “David Watts” was via The Jam.) I used to spin The Kinks regularly at DJ gigs, but at the time I honestly wouldn’t have said that — as a band — they were one of my faves. That changed when I finally purchased Face to Face. I won’t say that the album is as good as The Beatles or Beach Boys’ pinnacle releases, but it’s certainly an essential album. “Rosie Won’t You Please Come Home,” a love letter to a departed sister, is just outstanding. And “House in the Country” and “Sunny Afternoon” are Top of My Pops.
Face to Face led me to fully investigate the rest of The Kinks late-Sixties, early-Seventies catalog, where I finally gave Arthur a chance. (I used to detest and dismiss “concept albums.”) Village Green, Lola (which was used to good affect in The Darjeeling Unlimited), Something Else, Muswell Hillbillies … what a truly stunning stretch of records. So, why aren’t more people in love with Ray Davies and The Kinks on a level equal to The Beatles or The Stones or The Who? I suppose The Kinks never indulged in the psychedelic era on par with The Beatles, but that’s no excuse in and of itself as The Stones quickly flopped in their attempts (Their Satanic Majesties Request). And it can’t be solely because The Kinks favored concept albums, because The Who and The Beatles both tampered with the genre as well. I suppose the problem may be that, lyrically, Ray Davies is far more esoteric than his peers. But then again, plenty of his songs are also about the average working man, or are written from the perspective of The Outsider who finds himself on The Inside (his rants against the music industry come to mind). Or maybe the reason for The Kinks’ lack of relative, longstanding superstardom is due to the fact that they often favored more baroque, delicate arrangements. While The Beatles were rocking out on Let It Be, The Stones were releasing rock albums like Let It Bleed and Sticky Fingers, and The Who and Led Zeppelin were ushering in a new era of arena rock, The Kinks were recording oddball chamber pop like “Phenomenal Cat.” Still, Arthur and especially Lola certainly have their rocking moments to rival their peers.
Maybe The Kinks just lost out because they failed to successfully maintain stride in a musical era (the 1970s) that was all about progression and refinement. Soon, David Bowie and T. Rex and The New York Dolls would be hip. Progressive rock hit its stride. Funk began to splinter traditional R&B. Later, punk, disco, rap, reggae, and new wave all blossomed. Where did The Kinks fit in? They didn’t, really.
The Kinks — “Rosie, Won’t You Please Come Home?”
The Kinks — “Phenomenal Cat”
The Kinks — “Waterloo Sunset”
The Kinks — “I’m Not Like Everybody Else”
The Kinks — “Village Green”
The Kinks — “Powerman”
Update: Check out this video about a guy who feels much as I do, and is trying to get The Kinks to reunite.
