Murray Gershenz has nearly half a million records in his personal collection, which also happens to be the the inventory for his fifty year old LA store, which also happens to be his life’s work. It is impossible to say where the lines begin and end.

This short film by Richard Parks (son of Van Dyke Parks) says so much about love, love of music, a man’s life, a man’s work, becoming a (Jewish) man in mid-century America, a father’s legacy, the passage of time, life and death. If Murray wants to sell his life’s work — which is unclear — then I hope he does. But I really hope people watch this film. 

Seems like since I’ve been married and became a dad, I’ve forgotten February 24th a few times now. I’m sorry. Truly. Happy 57th birthday, Edward Clarence Murray.

I still occasionally have dreams involving picking up the newspaper (USA Today) and seeing a box score with your name in it. It reads 3 for 4 (off Lamarr Hoyt) with a home run, a double and 3 RBIs. Just like it was 1983.

PS Your card is in the mail.

PPS I never trusted DeCinces.

When you decided that there aren’t any bands at SXSW you really want to see that much because the whole pursuit feels exhausting and you’d rather just have tacos for three meals a day at home and hang out in the backyard with your kids.

But then you look over the schedule one more time and decide that you absolutely must see two acts. Just two. And they are decidedly not the newest or new. But, boy am I excited. Hustling to get a sitter so the Missus and I can see.

That’s how I know I am definitely not young.

Mr. Charles Bradley

Master Richard Thompson

Today I made a list (or rather a Google doc) for the team to start compiling a list of essentials for our new office. Presently, we work out of an incubator/co-working space, so the idea of a place that we can make our own is very appealing.

The list started simply enough: microwave, kitchenware, dry erase board, printer/scanner, bookshelf, framed logo, etc. 

And then I realized that I forgot this. How could I work without this?

By Dave Choate (who I’ve posted about before).

We saw Cat Power last night. I hadn’t seen her since the late 90s, in part because she doesn’t tour that often and in part because I had seen a couple of shows way back when that confirmed her reputation for delivering “uncomfortable” live experiences.

I know, for some people, that’s the allure of her show. But, not for me. I love her records, starting with “What Would the Community Think” and ignoring “Jukebox.” For somebody that I almost avoid seeing live, I listen to a lot of Cat Power.

So, we went last night, not because I was dying to see her, but because we had a sitter and she was playing at a theater where the sound is immaculate and we could sit and the press seemed to promise a meltdown-free affair.

I guess, then, that this is my review of the first Cat Power show I’ve seen in thirteen years. Frankly, I don’t know where to begin. There are so many layers to peel. I could start with Chan’s hair, which now is officially a stark white boy cut, eerily similar to a haircut once sported by Agyness Deyn, the model who ended up marrying Chan’s ex right before the new album came out. Or I could start with the sheer thunder of her band, that included the drums way up front and sometime two drummers. Right now, the band sounds like early New Order — jittery, huge, catchy and sad. Or I could start with her nervous, but sweet dialogue with the audience. Or I could rave on about her Spaghetti Western turned operatic cover of Angelos Negros. Or I could talk about the (few) uneven moments where she seemed to be filling the setlist with new songs just because they were new and that’s what you do when you’re supporting a new record.

I could probably write a small novel about any one of those things (OK, maybe not the throwaways). Instead, I’ll just simply say that her opening take on The Greatest (this video is the best I could find and does it NO justice) was so unexpected and so mesmerizing that I’d rank it among the best seven minutes of music I’ve ever experienced live. I’ve certainly seen better concerts. In smaller rooms. Shows that became legendary in my own mind. I’m not sure this was one of those shows. I’m not a kid any more. And live music doesn’t feel as desperately new as it once did. But this song did. Chan was like a gospel singer fronting Black Heart Procession playing as a Joy Division cover band. She stripped the song down to almost nothing and, beat up voice and all, went searching for Aretha or Otis. I have no idea if Chan is religious. I sort of assume she is not. But, from this song alone, I know she believes in something as much as I believe in anything.

The first time I heard and saw First Aid Kit was, like many people, on YouTube, covering Fleet Foxes. This is a bunch of years ago. Five maybe? They practically looked like babies. More like babies than like somebody my age, for sure. 

I saw them a couple of years later in NYC on their first US tour and you could hear a pin drop. The room was theirs. They were charming, lovely, fearless and, frankly, inspiring. It was one of my favorite shows in recent memory.

I like their records. I like them a lot. But I don’t love them. 

Just recently, though, I found this video of them from last year, covering Patti Smith at a fancy event. The stage is huge. Patti Smith is in the audience, crying. There is something very brave about the band. Their bravery is very apparent in this video and is, in my mind, what I imagine affects Patti Smith so deeply, re-imagining her own bravery from nearly forty years earlier.

Is a beloved Dutch designer, who also teaches at Yale, worked on stamps, signs and art (lots of art). He is know for his typographic work but these gorgeous letterpress prints remind me about what separates the Dutch from the Danes or Swedes. Namely, a colorful playfulness that feels more French than Nordic. His definitive book, Printed Matter, is something that everyone should probably own but, somehow, I do not. 

Apparently, one day after the HoF blackout, Sammy Sosa launched his official Pinterest page, which is almost as bizarre as the time he turned Caucasian.

This is all 100% real, by the way.