Our winter in the Northwest has been incredibly mild—warmest January on record—and so the snow pile-ups in other parts of the country seem hard to imagine. But…this weatherman has convinced me of the severity of weather.

As Nick put it, he is like the Glenn Beck of weather casting. Oh boy. Oh boy.

“Con Toda Palabra” (With All Words) by Lhasa de Sela. The Living Road 2003.

The world will have to enter the next decade without the rough-edged voice and haunting lyrics of Lhasa de Sela, who passed away just hours before midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Lhasa, an internationally known singer and songwriter, was able to write deeply evocative, emotional lyrics equally in English, Spanish and French. This unusual pedigree stems from a childhood spent both in the US and in Mexico, which eventually gave way to an adulthood based in Montreal. However, her dark, lush music sounds like none of these places specifically, instead tracing its roots to some mysterious, secretive land in between. Switching from one language to another lends a spice and vibrancy that is matched by the power of her distinctive, often anguished, voice.

The video above illustrates the first track from her 2003 album, The Living Road, which garnered Lhasa the award for Best Artist of the Americas from the BBC 3 World Music Awards. Though fighting breast cancer for almost two years, Lhasa managed to record a final album—Lhasa—which dropped less than a month ago.

WITH ALL WORDS

WITH ALL SMILES
WITH ALL LOOKS

WITH ALL CARESSES

I DRAW NEAR THE WATER
DRINKING YOUR KISS
THE LIGHT OF YOUR FACE

THE LIGHT OF YOUR BODY

TO LOVE YOU IS A PRAYER
THE SONG OF THE MUTE
THE EYES OF THE BLIND
THE NAKED SECRET

I ENTRUST MYSELF TO YOUR ARMS
I'm AFRAID AND I'M CALM
A PRAYER IN MY MOUTH
AND A PRAYER IN MY SOUL

“Cross My Heart” The Senate

Those crazy Senate kids are at it again. This time around they have a beautifully produced music video to go with a new-ish song (which sounds a little different than their usual fare). If you’re in the Seattle area, you should try and catch a (now very rare) show by these three. They are incredibly talented and pretty nice guys to boot! Additionally, this song is offered for free download on their elegant site.

Fantastically creative video by the New Zealand Book Council. I find it a little strange that this is a video whose goal is to goad people to read, considering how it focuses on the crazy things that can be done when pages are used for things other than reading. In any case, extremely cool!

Song: “Ljósið” by Olafur Arnalds. Video by Esteban Diacono.

I have heard a couple of people comment that someone needs to make a visualizer application of this effect, and I agree: it’s hypnotic, it’s beautiful and mesmerizing. I could watch it all day. But if this effect could be used for any song you had lying around in your catalog, it would render this song and its unique video unremarkable. And that would be a utter shame.

Holy crap, Gaius Baltar is real. Can’t you see this guy giving up scientific secrets to a supermodel Cylon for sexings? Can’t you see him lying, stealing and begging to stay alive—tears in his teary, teary eyes—aboard a starship with the remnants of humanity aboard? Don’t you kind of want to punch him in the face?

So, scientifically speaking: if it looks like a Baltar and talks like a Baltar and has ridiculously coiffed hair like a Baltar and makes you want to punch him in the face like a Baltar…yep. The harbinger of death is nigh.

I’ve had three songs from Marina and the Diamonds’ album on heavy rotation for about two months now, and I have been trying to come up with an excuse to post this very song. Now, there is one: it’s got a video, and it uses some wacky body art based on the work of Lucy McRae.

All well and good. But, I have a beef with this video, and it is this: it isn’t weird enough. For any other poppy song, sure, this is weird. But this is a seriously off-the-wall song, full of odd sound effects and freaky interludes. I feel like the all-white wall should have been some wild jungle pattern, that things should have been popping in and out of frame with abandon (muppets! puppets!) and that titular lead singer Marina should have broken out of her dead-face expression at least once. I feel like she’s trying to give me sexy face, with her heavy-lidded pout -pout lips, but…you’re bouncing on puppet limbs and singing about spooks and silver spoons chasing you. Nothing in that is inherently sexy. (I…don’t think?)

But, there are accordion legs and arms, so I guess it’s enough. Hmph.

“The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus” trailer.

Heath Ledger + Johnny Depp + Jude Law + Tom Waits + directed by Terry Gilliam.

It looks so completely and outrageously out of control, and I can’t wait to see it. (Though, as we know from every other Gilliam movie, it’ll probably have some huge gaping faults, but it ultimately won’t matter.)

Summer Sounds: August

(After attempting to post any Bat for Lashes songs for three days, I finally gave up and just posted a video instead. A video I don’t particularly like for a song I sort of half-like, but it’s better than nothing.)

“Sleep Alone” by Bat for Lashes

Two Suns

Evenings in August are the longest, the light lingering far into what should properly be night. Sunsets take a lifetime and stars don’t wink into sight til bedtime.

Therefore, August was the perfect time for Bat for Lashes to unleash her second album, Two Suns. A crazy amalgam where fantasy, prophecy and evil sirens can intermingle perfectly with cutting edge electronica and dancehall beats, Two Suns tells the story of alter-ego Pearl and her journey…somewhere. Lyrics that might as well hail from a new-Age dream journal somehow become transcendent when couched in tremendously creative arrangements, carried by Natasha Khan’s soaring voice.

In August’s crepuscular light, Bat for Lashes’ eerie vocals, battering electronics and ethereal washes melded in a whole that hinted at something greater than the sum of its parts.

Wallis Bird has another album out in the UK. Woo!

Caution: Don’t watch this video if you’re feeling overly cynical or snide or damn-the-man about the world. It is just too happy.

The Polite Umbrella, designed and built by NYC-based Korean artist Joo Youn Paek. Also the maker—and modeler—of the “Pillowig.”

Clearly the output of someone who has lived in and contemplated the use and misuse of dense urban areas. If I had a pillow wig I doubt I’d ever take it off—after all, it’s the best part of sleeping, and diminishes the spectre of bedhead.

The Website Is Down

A series of videos about office life shot from computer screens, or in this case, a security camera.  This one is about how to deal with technical issues, the other two are about sales and IT.  Hopefully there are more to come, because so far everything has been astounding.

Scott Pilgrim vs The World is in the midst of shooting, for a 2010 release. Most of the Cloudherders are fans of the little indie comic, so we’re understandably trepidatious about how film is going to mangle our fun.

However, as previously discussed on the blog, the film is in pretty good hands: Edgar Wright, the director of Hot Fuzz and Shaun of the Dead is at the helm. He’s been posting little vids on the movie’s official site, and above is one of the most interesting.  Author Bryan Lee O’Malley has included meticulously drawn site-specific streets, stores and homes from Toronto in the comic, and this 3 minute video demonstrates how the film is shooting on location at some of those exact places. The care with which these locations are being chosen and shot makes me breathe a huge sigh of relief: maybe we can start to uncross our fingers?

We saw Metric last night at the Market Showbox. I sweated in places I didn’t know I could sweat, and the front rows were intermittently doused with water bottle spray by kind Showbox bouncers who preferred that people didn’t burst spontaneously into flame.

Emily Haines, shimmering in a gold lame tube dress, spent an hour and a half singing and playing like a woman possessed. Dancing around the stage, doin’ high kicks, the pony, a version of the robot, breaking down and jumping up, posing for the crowd, she was a glittering goddess under the hot lights, and the entire first row never stopped reaching out to her for a single touch.

The band stuck mostly to material from Fantasies, with a couple of bombshells from Old World Underground and Live It Out thrown in for good measure. They started off the set not with a bombastic rendition of a favorite, but by building a wall of sound heightening in intensity, until under the cool blue lights the crowd suddenly recognized the distorted strains of “Twilight Galaxy” and went wild. (They used a theremin! You guys! A THEREMIN!)

The last time we went to see Metric, I was able to see exactly nothing of the band, and at times, the top of Emily’s head. I spent the concert really annoyed at the hulking giants standing in front of me, who would occasionally start dancing by swinging their arms spastically back and forth. Eventually, of course, they clocked my friend, but even that didn’t stop them. When I was informed—after the concert ended—the Emily Haines had spent the entire time dancing around in nothing but a long Hendrix t-shirt, I nearly passed out. I couldn’t see any of it.

But not this time. Every band member, every expression, every chord and guitar change and dance move, I could see it all. A lot of Emily butt, and a lot of her hilarious interaction with the band. And, best of all, nobody was threatening to step on me. A+