Yoga

Today was long swim day, like, really long; 5.2k to be exact.  So, yeah, my shoulders are a bit tight and could definitely use a good yoga stretch.  However, I also have an ulterior motive for today’s bonus yoga workout, namely, 40 minutes with the new Dean Wareham album.  OhboyOhboyOhboyOhboy… 

Okay, seriously?  I haven’t been this excited to do yoga since I first discovered those cheap ass yoga shorts on the rack at Giant Tiger a few years ago.

Anyway, after years fronting “Dream Pop” bands like Galaxie 500 and Luna (of which I am also a huge fan), then a couple of albums with partner (and ex-Luna bassist) Britta Phillips, and then, well, nothing, Wareham finally decided to graces the shelves of music stores with an EP last year, ‘Emancipated Hearts‘, and now, his first solo full album release featuring nine shiny new atmospheric laid back pop songs that seem to pick up where Luna left off with their 2004 ‘Rendezvous‘  album.  Seriously, I might just skip the yoga altogether and just lie here and listen with a huge shit-eating grin on my face.

Truthfully, the album starts off a little slow even by Dean’s standards.  Now, I can’t really say anything bad here as the Luna police are likely to show up and revoke my “Cool License” but, thankfully, things begin to pick up by ‘Love Is Not a Rood In the Rain‘ (track 5) and just gets progressively cooler from there, with ‘Babes In the Wood‘  being particularly mesmerizing.  The last track, ‘Happy & Free‘, while still cool, sounds like something that would appear on the soundtrack to a ‘Silence of the Lambs‘  type movie where the psycho killer walks around with his junk tucked between his legs; it’s catchy while still being pretty unnerving.

So, yeah, well done Dean.

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About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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