Author: devangoldstein

Openers

devangoldsteinLeave a comment

This isn’t really as impressive as it sounds at first, but I think I’ve done something somewhat innovative in my digital life.

I was thinking about how the first track on many albums has or develops a “first track” feel. (This was specifically about “Any Day Now” and “Station Approach” on the Elbow [iTunes Music Store search] albums Asleep in the Back and Leaders of the Free World.) Basically, I was wondering precisely whether “has” or “develops” is the better word.

To facilitate my musico-philosophical ruminations, I made a simple smart playlist called “Openers” in iTunes, with just the following two rules:

  1. Track number = “1”
  2. Album ≠ “”

In my collection, I remove album information from all tracks not associated with a complete album in my possession. (It’s slightly irresponsible, I know, but I very often browse by album, and it just reduces so much clutter.) So, the second rule eliminates all songs that I don’t know in their full lead-off hitting glory.

Thinking that unaffiliated (with an album) tracks might constitute an equally interesting set, I made a second list for them, called, unimaginatively, “Openers 2”:

  1. Track number = “1”
  2. Album = “”

The Openers 2 list turned out to be relatively uninteresting; most of the tracks were “1 of 1” or seemed just to have a “1” by accident, as I know they’re in fact not the openers on their albums.

But, you can find my Openers list on my as yet non-existent website. Fair warning: It’s a wildly self-indulgent nine-page PDF.

Feel free to make your own and post a link in the comments, or if you’ve got no website, just email it to me and I’ll put it up with or without your name—up to you. (Easy way: Select all in the iTunes playlist | Copy | Paste into Excel | Delete irrelevant columns | Print to PDF or just Save.) It’ll be interesting to see a large collection of openers, I think.

Based on my own list, it seems on first glance that openers tend to be well-chosen by production teams. I offer no deeper analysis, though—this post was really more about process…

State College in the Summer

devangoldsteinLeave a comment

I’m not sure why this is, but apparently, to work at a restaurant here in the summer you have to be:

  1. under the age of 19,
  2. male, and
  3. offputtingly earnest and eager to please.

This morning I asked for my breakfast burrito sans bacon or sausage, and the young fellow asked me if I’d rather have chicken. I told him I didn’t eat meat, and his eyes lit up.

“I…I think we have…t…t…tofu,” he said, as his lower lip began to tremble. He had been waiting—perhaps all summer, perhaps all his life—to deliver such a line.

“Hell, if you’ve got it, throw it in there,” I barreled back, trying to seem nonchalant, but unnerved by his excitement. (He was by this point emitting an audible crackling noise, like a beehive had fallen on a bug zapper.)

As the words left my mouth, he vanished, leaving only the faint whiffs of Axe body spray and saltless tears. I’d like to think he’ll come back to this earth someday, perhaps as a designer chicken or one of those hairless cats.

First Post; News Roundup

devangoldsteinLeave a comment

First post. Sick of sending emails.

  • I hate to share it, but here’s more evidence that teens are smarter and more creative than the rest of us.
  • They’ve finally found a direct link between HIV and other primate viri.
  • What this guy’s doing with the motion sensor in his MacBook Pro and a desktop manager is incredible. Check out the video. He’s essentially created a new human interface here. Brilliant.
  • And…it’s the future. Some firm with crazy cred has released plans for a cloaking device.
  • The first robot controlled by human brain waves has made a peace sign. When the robots control themselves, they’ll have anything but peace on their minds. (But they WILL have minds.)
  • Ambien…does a (vegetative) body good. Seriously — this stuff helps insomniacs sleep AND lets the comatose have conversations? If it can help me find my scooter keys, sign me up.