By the Power of Greyskull

Oh my Lord I'm crushing hard. A music crush, for me, the most dire. I can watch, or rather listen, as an album elbows its way into my chest cavity and replaces all others for weeks at a time. The month of March has been the month of Crystal Castles. My Ipod is stuck on repeat, my Jeep's CD player loops around and around. Radio, NPR? Please. Not right now.

I am also behind the Times. Crystal Castles self-titled debut came out almost a full year ago. I bought it around X-mas. It lay unused, unopened in my CD closet for months. Its not that I had any doubts. Far from it. It was getting crazy-good reviews, the music being described as 'full of video games noises and glitchs' and with female vocals to boot. Two of my favoritest musical things. No, it was more like I was saving this one, like an ace up one's sleeve, or a bottle of really good bourbon that sits unopened on your shelf while you whittle away on the cheap stuff.

But man, it was love at first listen. All the best parts of Cheesy French electro (thumping beats, synth-y 80s atmosphere) combined with Mega Man 2 stage music sound effects. And the lead singer has been rightfully described as a chameleon, blinking in and out of songs. One moment with riot grrl fury in a raw punked-out bulldozer edge and then a few songs later reeling back to employ a sweet chanteuse delicacy that would make Feist sound grating. My favorite moments are when she sounds chipper and upbeat, her vocals layered and cut up over all those video game noises. Makes me think of the head highschool cheerleader renvisioned by the nerds, cheering on a team of gamers to victory.

It is less about aping the way early video games used noises and constructed surprisingly complicated music out of unsophisticated technology and more about building songs that make one feel what its like to be a kid and playing those games. Raw enthusiasm and a big heart. And nowhere near as gimmicky as all this might sound, although I suppose the natural caveat of 'it's not for everyone' probably applies. But I can't get enough. One more reason to look forward to the ride home from work.

Pigeon Crippler

That's it. I give up. Lemme tell you how badly I want the weather to warm up so that I can ride my bike again and no longer have to drive to work in a gasoline fueled death engine. I guess 'death engine' is a bit harsh, and not entirely accurate, unless my wife and her sister have some dark and sordid past of running down hobos in their Jeep back in Mystic. No, as you'll see, death would have preferrable in this instance.

I was just turning into Hyde Park off of Lake Shore Drive and came to a red light at the 53rd Street exit. Across the intersection there were several pigeons milling around a pot hole in the middle of the road. By the time the light turned green there were several cars lined up behind me and I went forward. Driving in the city, you get used to pigeons. They are always in the street, and they always explode into a flying mass of wings, claws and beaks when traffic approaches. I don't know if it was too cold, or the Jeep has some sort of invisibility cloak to birds, but I kept going forward and they didn't move.

Now this all sounds like it lasted for far longer than it did. The pitfall of writing an account that took all of 3 seconds or so. But I drove forward, cars right on my butt, the pigeons still not moving. And then all of a sudden I was on top of them, hoping they had flown off to the side or something. But when I was another 30 feet forward or so I looked back through the rear-view mirror and it was horrible! One of the pigeons hadn't made it and worse, it wasn't dead. It was hopping up into the air a few feet or so, wings sputtering all spastic, then returning to the street, like a chicken or other bird that doesn't fly very well. It kept doing that in my mirror, and i'm afraid I crippled him or something.

I can't say how badly this effected me. I had to pull over to the side of the road and put my head in my hands. It was horrible. Way worse than the Blackest Ice. I know it's not my fault that pigeons are so stupid. But they are also fragile fluffy little birds. And I have some serious bad karma coming my way now. Figures it would be Friday the 13th too.