For a limited time only... non-knitting content.

Hey, remember when I used to talk about things other than knitting? Me neither.

Music.
Massive bummer of last week: Missing the Dino Jr. show at the Abbey on Thursday. I was just way too busy and exhausted, and spent all afternoon walking around buying books when I should've been taking a damned nap. Although I heard Lou was cranky as hell and it wasn't that great of a show, I wish I'd been up for it.

Exciting concert I'll be napping for this week: The National. They're always great in concert, and now they're all famous and shit.

Concert I should buy tix for soon, once I get my shit together: Os Mutantes at the Metro in July. It's gonna be great. The replacement singer for Rita Lee is hot, their set at Pitchfork fest last year was really energetic and tight for not having performed in many years, and maybe they'll stop singing the English-lyrics versions of their songs.

Song I'm obsessed with: Caetano Veloso's cover of Joni Mitchell's Dreamland. Still. It's a terrific song. Honorable mention: The Raincoats' cover of Lola.

Movies.
Hot Fuzz: I saw it the week it came out in a downtown theater, a few weeks later at the "Art Theatre" in Ann Arbor, and last weekend at the $3.00 second-run place. I will probably be seeing it at the Brew and View, too. I like it more than Shaun of the Dead, maybe because I know more about cop movies than zombie movies.
Knocked Up: My love for Judd Apatow and crush on Seth Rogen make me rather unobjective on this movie, so just go see it. It's hilarious. It has wise things to say and innovative bong formations, so there's something for everyone.

Books.
Books I've finished: 33 1/3 books on Bruce Springsteen's Born in the USA and Joni Mitchell's Court & Spark. I slightly prefer the former, maybe because I like the former album better. Both of these books were slightly critical of their subjects--Springsteen could've made an even better album if he'd picked different tracks, and his humorous songs were better than he thought; Mitchell put out an awesome string of albums, but then got hateful toward her dwindling audience after C&S. The criticism was a nice change of pace from some of the "how cool is this album? here's all the recording details of this album!" style of some of the books. Not that I mind that all the time...

Disconcerting book fuckup of last week: Speaking of the worshipful recording details-style book, I was chugging along through the 33 1/3 book on Exile on Main St, only to find that every other pair of pages between 74 and 110 were completely blank. What the hell? The publisher was nice enough to send me a replacement, though.

Proof that I read books that aren't from the 33 1/3 series: I'm finishing up on Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. Yes, I know I'm four years late in reading it.

Trivia.
We managed to beat two pub trivia teams featuring people who've been on our team before (including Scott, the Web editor of Time Out Chicago--read him here and here) despite knowing nothing about Bobby Kennedy vs. Billy Carter. It's all Cranky Uncle Greg, people.