There are times when you will not like the sound of my voice

We are never as we wish we were. Entropy, the cruelest law of the universe, constantly acts to rob us of the very things we want so much to possess – life, vitality, completeness. The oft-repeated quote that hope is simultaneously man’s greatest strength and weakness deftly flays the problem out on the table for all to see. By definition, we are imperfect beings, forever seeking perfection, never to find it on this plane of living. However, the glimpses of it we get are enough to make us disdain both this life, and pine for the one we cannot understand -- and loathe the source of these revelations. A clearer picture of the whole makes us despair at the weight of effort required in a single lifetime, so we shun understanding for the menial, the narrow, the reduced view. Happiness is confusion; explaining the minutae of any situation robs it of its ephemeral value. Questioning, though, is the only path to an existence lived beyond the encumberance of skin; the burden of survival and a linear existence built on requirement, responsibility. People need one another for the neurons to fire and for emotion to flame, but man is bestial and capable of destruction on a scale we can only imagine at our darkest hours. I hate what I love while I love it; this is the Cartesian jar we are in. To trust is weakness, to doubt is unhappiness. A stellar seesaw we totter upon, never to find the middle until it’s too late, until the lessons are sharp and warm like blood from a fresh cut. Neither feeling nor thinking are enough, and both are a beautiful burden that will tear us apart.

It's good work if you can get it.

That's the way this wheel keeps turning 'round

Watching American cyclist and cancer survivor Lance Armstrong cross the finish line at the end of the Tour de France’s tenth stage to re-take the leader’s yellow jersey last week it would have been hard to tell this was a man approaching the end of his professional career. However, that’s just what the greatest Tour rider in history intends to do on July 24th, the date after what he hopes will be his seventh consecutive win in cycling’s biggest even – hang up his wheels for good.

Cycling is in many ways an anomalous sport, and not just because its participants clad themselves in form-fitting Lycra; the thirty-two year Armstrong will walk away considered an old athlete in a sport dominated by those in their late twenties. More than simply an athlete that swings a leg over a bike, though, the Texan has become a symbol of hope to the cancer community for his 1997 battle with testicular cancer that moved into his lungs and brain. His Livestrong foundation, formed to advocate increased cancer research and awareness, sparked the colored wristband urge with their now ubiquitous yellow bangles seen on Hollywood stars and Olympians. Even Armstrong’s competitors in the professional cycling peloton wear them, in as much of a bow to his dominance as support of a worthy cause. Indeed, this column is an indication of how deeply the cult of Armstrong has penetrated the pop culture psyche of America in a way that no other person in what was until his emergence a sport wholly ignored by mainstream sports reporting on this side of the Atlantic. But what is the future of American cycling after Lance’s shadow has receded into the background – will the sport simply fade back into obscurity except on the Continent?

A handful of Americans are doing an admirable job of answering that question in the negative, gunning for the vacuum in the sport that Armstrong’s self-imposed withdrawal will bring. Greenville, SC resident George Hincapie, Lance’s lieutenant in the tour and teammate for over a decade won this year’s 15th Tour stage, the first win for a teammate of Lance in the big event since 1999. While George might not have the qualities of a Tour contender, preferring the harsh single-day races of April to hot July’s spent in France, it was a signal that an oh-so-American run at domination in yet another sport wouldn’t fold like a stack of cards come next year.

Two other Americans on different European teams built around them for Le Tour sit in its top ten currently – Gerolsteiner’s Levi Leipheimer and Phonak’s Floyd Landis, a former teammate of Lance. Another American, Tyler Hamilton managed fourth place overall in 2003, just a step away from the yearly podium on Paris’ vaunted Champs Elysees, and Leipheimer was 9th last year. With so many riders in their prime turning in continually improving performances, the future of American competition in Europe is bright. Like any other sport, cycling has its share of problems, like the fight against performance-enhancing drugs to battle, but unlike Major League Baseball or other sports we’re more familiar with, it is far ahead in sniffing out the cheats. Big results where it matters, like France in July, coupled with a thriving domestic scene means you should give the next cyclist you see out training a wide berth and a friendly wave – he might just be the next Armstrong.

C'mon DJ, bring that back!

IJIllustrationMPW, originally uploaded by lotifoazurri.

Living in Columbia, you get used to being a few years behind the trends that sweep bigger cities up North or out West before filtering down to the sleepy South. However, Apple's iPod has permeated tech-savvy America's consciousness so thoroughly that the device's trademark white earbuds are a recognizable commodity among those in the know even in South Carolina's capital city.

In the same way Sony's Walkman revolutionized the way people interact with their music away from car stereos and home hi-fi sets, the iPod has made it easier than ever to carry an entire collection of digital music in your back pocket. This, in turn, has paved the way for enterprising music lovers to share more of the tunes they loved with others - a fad called "iPod jacking" found users of the ubiquitous player plugging into another's device to sample whatever they might be playing, revealing something about the owner's personality and perhaps introducing the listener to something new.

Apple has sold nearly 15 million of the little white and silver digital music players and made enough of an impact on popular culture that Forbes magazine recently called it "a true cultural and social phenomenon" because of the product's influence on people's behavior and even on business through the countless accessories the iPod has spawned.
It's no small wonder then that having thousands of songs at your fingertips (an estimated 5000 can fit on the 20 gigabyte model) would mean iPod owners would eventually get together to play music for one another. New York DJs realized that instead of lugging around heavy and cumbersome crates of records, they could simply take an iPod or laptop and run it through a digital mixer, letting them carry a broader selection of music with less hassle. Some venues in the Big Apple and similarly progressive cities let patrons bring in their own iPods to take turns playing the music.

While Columbia certainly lacks some of the cultural variety found in bigger towns, the presence of USC means there is a constant influx of new ideas from all over the nation and the world rotating in and out of our city. Combine the forward-thinking sensibilities of a university town with USC's own source for independent music, WUSC, and you have a critical mass for musical experimentation.

Former WUSC Public Affairs Director Ashley Solesbee saw a perfect opportunity to try something new when her summer employers at the Art Bar in the Vista challenged her to find a way to boost Friday sales. With the help of WUSC alum Peter Adolphson, who recently returned from law school in New York, Solesbee has helped to launch iPop, Columbia's first sustained effort at iPod-based DJ'ing.

Adolphson said that following 9/11, the New York club scene changed profoundly as traditional techno-based venues closed, and the revival of 1980s New Wave-based indie music found its way into hipster joints. Bringing the idea of digital DJ'ing back to Columbia with him from New York, Adolphson did a brief stint at Rust, whose regular crowd was less than amiable to the variety of music he plays than the diverse one that populates Art Bar on a given weekend.

"The thing we liked about (the name) iPop is how huge iPods are now," she said. She also said past efforts to do iPod DJ'ing in Columbia had failed because of a lack of promotion, which iPop is avoiding with the help of its own MySpace site and individual promotion of each week's event.

Adolphson does "a dance-rock format. He's very talented and puts lots of effort into it," Solesbee said.

Cross-promoting his iPop appearances through his Friday alumni show on WUSC, Adolphson said "we're not afraid to play 80s songs" along with current music, and the ultimate goal is to "play music that people don't normally hear in Columbia." For now, the goal is to bring in a solid base of WUSC listeners, eventually expanding the audience by influx of students for fall semester.

Though Adolphson has exclusively handled the DJ'ing duties, the plan is to "expand it to other WUSC DJ's," said Adolphson.

And I will try to fix you

'X&Y' by Coldplay
Three and 1/2 of five stars

Chris Martin, Coldplay's frontman, has a monkey on his back. Following the release of his band's sophomore effort, "A Rush of Blood to the Head" in 2002, Martin met and married actress Gwyneth Paltrow, and the couple had a child. In a profession that still clings to the clichéd idea that angst produces the best art, critics saw signs of the worst weakness a musician can confess to - domestic bliss. "X&Y" is not only Coldplay's third full-length album then - it is a test for a band long brushed off as banal since its breakthrough hit "Yellow" from 2000's release "Parachutes."

The UK's music press has long been fond of saddling any band that shows a sliver of promise with the weight of being the next Beatles or Oasis, hoping their domestic fledglings will usher in another era of invasion-like fervor about British music. Coldplay has labored under this mantle with the obligatory U2 references ever since their discovery, and it seems to have gone to their admittedly self-conscious noggins. Instead of doing what a great band does and break new musical ground, the men of Coldplay seem contented to simply be a second-rate cover band of the best in British music, both now and then, subsuming the punk-revivalist guitar attack of Bloc Party and fusing it with Bono's swelling arena overtures.

This is not to say "X&Y" is not a good album. On the contrary, there is hardly anything to object to in the band's trademark formulaic build-up on songs like the album's opener "Square One." This inoffensiveness of sound is sure to net Coldplay big Sound Scan numbers for album sales, as "X&Y" will appeal to rock and adult alternative fans alike. If nothing else, the album's brilliance is in its carefully wrought production, which clearly has in mind Coldplay's live arena show where the big money is made off T-shirts and spinning turnstiles.

Martin seems to have traded the vulnerability that made his earlier songwriting more approachable for a shot at universal appeal, all the while scaling back the acoustic guitar and piano approach that was notable in earlier albums. "X&Y" trades off between up-tempo rockers and ballads in predictable fashion that would make a manic-depressive proud. "Fix You" is a notable example, with Martin straining his voice to a near whisper in a bid for the upper register, getting lost in the wash of organs and piped-in strings and evoking the indie albums that made a breakthrough last year thanks to Fox's "The O.C."

"X&Y" is a summer album, plain and simple, with notes of the British rock icons of the past that hopefully mean Coldplay will mature into something more complex in the future.

You get smaller while the world gets big

No one was surprised that South Carolina Speaker of the House David Wilkins was confirmed by the U.S. Senate to be President Bush's new ambassador to Canada. After all, Wilkins had been instrumental in Bush's 2000 primary victory against fellow Republican John McCain that swung the momentum to a then-flagging campaign in a contentious nomination race. Wilkins served as statewide chairman of Bush's electoral efforts in 2000 and 2004, and the close ties between South Carolina and the Bush presidency through USC graduate and White House Chief of Staff Andrew Card meant Wilkins was due his political reward.

Until recently, the Speaker of the House was the most powerful man in South Carolina politics, because of the way that our constitution reserved few powers for the governor. The university's old athletic center is named after 1970s speaker Solomon Blatt, an indication of his lasting influence.

South Carolina was fortunate that he made the decision not to step down after Bush's first victory in 2000, as Wilkins was able to oversee the transition between Democratic governor Jim "Powerball" Hodges and Republican Mark "Slash-and-burn" Sanford. During the former's tenure in the State House, Wilkins was able to guide potentially explosive and contentious issues like the removal of the Confederate flag from the State House dome and the implementation of a statewide lottery through a House chamber that finds it hard to agree on anything. After the change of administrations and the shift back to Republican dominance in Columbia, Wilkins managed to rein in maverick Sanford and his well-intentioned but misguided efforts to reintroduce the fiscal discipline lost in previous years. Take for example the efforts of the House to override vetoes that Sanford had made of essential public services solely because they weren't in line with his spending philosophy.

Following the news last Thursday that he had been confirmed, Bush advisor Karl Rove called into Wilkins' weekly radio show to congratulate him on the new post. Rove, and indeed the whole West Wing, has reason to celebrate their new loyal hire who will move to Canada following the end of South Carolina's legislative year in a few days. South Carolina, though, should lower its flags in mourning for the loss of an eminent political talent who will surely be missed next year.

Knuckles clench to white as the landing gear retract for flight

2005-04-26, smile6, originally uploaded by lotifoazurri.

I'm off to Maryland for the weekend for my niece (seen above) Hannah's baptism. After that I'll resume regular updates, accompanied by copiously gratutious family photography. The other niece and nephew are flying up with their parents for what will be a first memorable plane ride. I expect shrieks of delight, and at least one nose pressed to the glass in anticipation of high-altitude views of patchwork farms.

Finally done with the Spring semester 2005, I never want to return to higher education. It stifles me in ways I can't even begin to describe. I regret not going to culinary school or going to FullSail for a recording degree. Oh well, you know what they say about hindsight. . .

Over the weekend I need to do some further tweaking to the comment/trackback situation that is cluttering up the space above the title. While the redesign is golden, there's still some behind the scene changes to be made, and I'm no pro.

This year I ended up streamlined

It's more than a bit ironic that Charleston-based songsmith Michael Flynn admits that the soundtrack to 1983's "The Big Chill" is one of his early influences. After all, the Motown-heavy compilation that paved the way for every thematic movie score since served as the backdrop to a script about children of the 1960s who are coming to terms with the death of their idealistic youth. While Flynn's 2004 release "No Disassemble" deals with the perils of growing up and is replete with themes of love gone sour and death, its creative architect is still chasing his dream of making a living singing the songs he's written.

Growing up in Greenville, Flynn went to the College of Charleston before attending the well-respected Berkelee College of Music in Boston to further his abilities on the ivories - a skill his parents began cultivating when he was in third grade. At Berkelee, Flynn received both honors for his songwriting and began to chafe against the academic setting he found himself in. Eventually moving back to Charleston, he took with him collaborator Josh Kaler, who has played either drums or guitar for his friend ever since. They collaborated on Flynn's debut "Music for the Flood," which was the thematically expansive result of his dammed-up songwriting and arranging sensibilities, and hinted at the much tighter 2004 recording.

"No Disassemble" was written and recorded during a year in Charleston, and shows the movement Flynn has made away from the academic confines of the music establishment and into the emotional deep-end of personal experience. Flynn said that while "Music for the Flood" was written from a narrative perspective, "No Disassemble" lacked the filter that kept him from putting himself more fully into the compositions.

Recorded primarily in his bedroom, the album never ducks into the muddy instrumental depths that were the hallmark of "Music for the Flood," nor does it sound like the lo-fi effort of a beginner or an indie snob that's grown too big for his britches. Instead, Flynn uses room noises and a veritable palette of Casiotone electronic flourishes and handclaps to accent the piano, guitar and drum lineup that would otherwise be unremarkable. Sounding like a product of the IDM revolution in pop instead of a child of grunge that similar-sounding North Carolina native Ben Folds was, Flynn's literate writing and inherent sense of timing work together on "No Disassemble" to result in an understated masterpiece. Feeling never gets left behind in exchange for musical flourishes, though, and tracks like "The Sea is Never Full" and "Streamlined" show Flynn knowing when to leave out elements or extend instrumental passages in a way that is atypical of the current crop of independent artists.

"You're in Luck" finds Flynn announcing to a past love that "I know the way to your heart, you're in luck," tempting her to return to a convenient relationship. On the album's most evocative track, "Don't Let Them See Me Like This," a hollow percussive line drives the moody organ and soaring guitar that punctuate Flynn's narrative of a hospitalized love one and the helplessness he feels watching their suffering.

Although Flynn has yet to garner the critical acclaim or regional following that are stepping stones to widespread success, the building blocks are in place. "No Disassemble" is waiting for a major label to snap it up and repackage, leaving the artist and his entourage with little to do other than tour incessantly to support better promotion efforts.

When many artists dream of their faces on MTV or singing to sold-out stadiums, Flynn remains a bit more modest in admitting that his five-year plan is to make a living doing what he is now, just hopefully with a few more people in the crowd. There is already at least another album's worth of material in place, but that can wait for a more expansive touring schedule, something that might include a jaunt to the UK, Flynn said. Indeed, it seems he is finally at ease with the lineup of his band and its ability to buoy him to new creative heights. "Now I can make all the sounds I want to," Flynn said in reference to his collaboration with Josh Kaler.

Even his Charleston base seems unlikely to offer a budding artist like himself much support, but Flynn says it lacks many of the negatives common to more musically literate towns like Austin, Portland or even Boston - ease of booking shows and getting promotion in the local media. Indeed, Charleston has its own tight community of artists like The Films, Cary Ann Hearst and Bill Carson that Flynn credits for giving him creative support and encouragement. "Seeing good music like that pushes me to want to be better," Flynn said.

No longer working random day jobs like the one at Kinko's he quit in December, he plans to avoid the "black hole" that the Southeast can be for artists that manage followings here but are virtually unknown outside the region by a following stiff touring schedule. The various iterations of his band have played Columbia many times during the past three years, and fans have another chance to see him with Josh Kaler in support at Jammin' Java on Wednesday at 7 p.m. Don't pass up the opportunity to see arguably South Carolina's best songwriting talent before stardom takes hold and his perennial visits cease.

Being Seth Cohen = Priceless

Seth, originally uploaded by lotifoazurri.

Death Cab appeared on The OC this Thursday to anticipation by indie fans and the show's target audience of 14-year olds everywhere. Alas, despite getting segments of three songs in, the boys barely had 30 seconds of face time, were at a rediculously low volume setting, and had to play to a lame staged audience - and the sound guys for the show used album tracks over the visuals instead of live music.

Furthermore, the Bait Shop performance was nothing more than scenery for a drug deal plotline, hardly the kind of thing you want associated with your band. It was odd to see Ben wearing his glasses on stage, but weirder still to see a short-haired Walla playing a butterscotch Strat. New guitar? Only time will tell, although the newly revamped DCFC site has new gear listed for the fellers, undobtedly culled from the recording sessions for Plans and obligatory gear-fiddling that accompanies the band's major label debut on Atlantic.

In all, it just gives me another reason to hate the OC, with its shoddy production, scripting, and lead actors. But hey, if it sells lots of copies of Trans and lets Harmer bling out his grill in platinum, I guess it's worth it, right? Right.