iPod Autobiography, Chapter Two

I tried to turn this into a vlog, but ran out of time - though it will happen soon. I started The iPod Autobiography a few weeks ago. The premise is simple: I set my iPod to shuffle, whatever tracks come up I contextualize to my life story, no matter how short or insignificant it may be. I have a theory that music plays a bigger role in our lives than we may know, so much so that it can almost be our biographer. Anyway, enjoy, folks. Happy Friday!

Music Theme by Kalyanji Anandji, The Bombay Connection
This is off one of the first c.d.s I bought after moving to Park Slope in August of 2007. I was making the transition from guy living in the 'hood to guy living in trendy 'hood. I figured I needed some trendy music to go with it. The Bombay Connection is a collection of soundtrack highlights from all these Bollywood action thrillers of the 1970s. I bought this along with a collection of 1960s pop Kraut Rock hits and Mexican arena rock singles, on vinyl. To this day, The Bombay Connection is the only one that I still listen to regularly. There are some great tracks on it for comedy sketches. I hate wasting money on good music, but there was a valuable lesson here: I obviously have a conscience, meaning I could never be a hipster.

Dudley by Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Show Your Bones
I love this band and I think this album is incredibly underrated. I finally got a chance to watch the No Wave documentary, Kill Your Idols, and I think Karen O is straight-up hottie. I picked up this album during the last semester of my senior year in college. My relationship with my then-girlfriend was falling apart and we were both in denial about it. I was visiting family in Philly and I ended up driving around the suburbs for a good hour afterwards listening to Show Your Bones. It was April of 2006, I think. The whole record is about getting over someone who hurt you. Ironically timely. I remember loving and hating this album when I first heard it. We broke up three months later. Karen O still won't take any of my phone calls.

Evaporated by Ben Folds Five, Whatever & Ever Amen
Oh God. This track was recommended to me by a friend in high school and I picked up the whole album a year later. This brings me back to when I was in the midst of my emo phase at eighteen and self-loathing felt like a good thing. It was Christmas 2001, I remember, and I had the lonely bug, as I often did. What kills me now is that the song is about a guy who let a good thing go, and the last relationship I had had back then was almost three years ago. Yet still, some demented part of my psyche honestly believed that chicks would dig my neediness. And they did... until they recognized I wasn't kidding. I've spent a lot of time since then being embarrassed by this point in my life, but as I said: it was my emo phase. Now, I need to work on being cynical yet heartfelt.

In The Arms Of Sleep by The Smashing Pumpkins,
Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness
This is one of my favorite albums. It's also one that has come back to me several times in my life. I first bought the album in 1996, became obsessed with it in 1997 and 1998, and then fell back in love with it in 2004 and 2007. I own most of The Smashing Pumpkins' catalog - I acknowledge that Billy Corgan is a dick, but his music is brilliant. Mellon Collie... is a two-disc album and this track is on the second disc, which I never listened to until I was in college. It's very moody and soulful, which has always appealed to me. Back in the day, I would probably be listening to this while trying to write poetry, which I did often in between acting and trying to write screenplays. For a long time, I listened to music while writing to set a mood or find inspiration. Now, of course, I can barely concentrate without some coffee and a list of snarky aphorisms. I hate maturity.

D'Evils by Jay-Z, Reasonable Doubt
Roc-A-Fella, y'all. I got into hip-hop in college and got very self-righteous about it for a while. During my days as an R.A., I had to watch after the school's basketball team my first year. All they listened to was 50 Cent - stab me in the face. However, Jay-Z was the bridge to some form of communication. The Black Album was something we all owned, but a few years later, a bootleg copy of Reasonable Doubt made it into my hands. I would bump it in my car all the time and eventually blew out my speakers. Plymouth Neons do not take kindly to the work of Jay-Z, I guess. I was still with the same then-girlfriend and she hated rap music - we once got into a really bad fight because she wanted me get rid of all of my albums. Two lessons learned: never date a cop's daughter, and if a girl makes you choose between her and your music, the relationship is over.

Counting Down The Hours by Ted Leo and The Pharmacists,
Shake The Streets
Ted Leo and The Pharmacists ranks alongside The Pumpkins as also one of my favorites. I've seen him live a few times and own most of his albums. In August 2006, I went to his River To River concert here in New York and had a blast. He plays the festival every summer and I'm super-bummed that I'm missing it this summer while in Chicago. That same concert ended up being way more important than I could've ever imagined: I was newly single for almost a month, I would get fired from my first office job a week later, and, two weeks after that, my apartment would get condemned and I would be homeless that same day. The euphemism "rough patch" would be putting it lightly. However, Ted's music helped me get through much of it, because he's all about getting through the regrettable mistakes of the Bush Administration to one day see a brighter future. Plus, that concert of course confirmed to me that there would be better times ahead. Thank you, Ted Leo - wherever you are.