J’aurai une réunion difficile aujourd’hui, et j’écoute donc Les Cowboys Fringants pour me remonter le moral.

Mais comme ça fait pleurer, la chanson « Secret » de Louane.

Some time after I moved out of the house for college (etc.), my younger siblings pooled some money to buy a used PlayStation 2 and a few games, including Guitar Hero 2. When I was home for summers and breaks, I got some exposure to new-to-me music through playing that game with them. As a huge fan of Homestar Runner, I naturally appreciated the appreciation of Trogdor, but one of the songs that stuck out most to me was Freezepop’s less talk more rokk:

Membership in one of my local libraries includes access to Freegal, a kind of janky, third-tier music streaming service. The selection isn’t fantastic, but my tastes in music aren’t exactly mainstream, and over the past four years, I’ve found a lot of music I like available through the service. In fact, because you can download a limited number of tracks per week, I have Indochine songs, Gérard Lenorman albums, and even the Stranger Things soundtrack all saved to my phone so that I can bypass the jankiness of the service and the official app.

It’s finally happened: I’ve seen a comic book panel that has the same style as the Take On Me music video.

Quelle tristesse ! Je ne savais même pas qu’il combattait le cancer. Les Cowboys Fringants, c’est un de mes groupes préférés, et je suis donc bouleversé par cette nouvelle.

“Just as I suspected, Daddy… You’ve been listening to We Will Rock You!”

Five years ago, a few of us who had (had) the same PhD advisor started a group chat on Keybase and added that advisor. It’s been a source of music recommendations, professional advice, sympathy during rough personal moments, and much more. It’s wholesome, helpful, and all around great.

Il y a beaucoup de sagesse dans la chanson « Octobre » des Cowboys fringants. Faut que je l’écoute plus souvent.

I have loved They Might Be Giants longer than any other artist, and I still feel like I constantly overlook how good they are.

There are Aquabats songs that I like because I know they’re dumb, but there is zero irony in my love for “Pizza Day.”

One unexpected thing that I owe to my Mormon upbringing is my love for the weird band They Might Be Giants. That’s not to say that there’s something distinctly Mormon about TMBG in the way that there is something distinctly Mormon about the existential fear of not doing things correct way that I also picked up during these years. Rather, it’s just the fact that I learned about TMBG—more specifically, their famous cover of Istanbul (Not Constantinople)—from Craig Wilson, a youth leader in my local congregation. This is my main memory of Wilson, who moved away from Northern Kentucky shortly after the conversation in his car where he mentioned the song to me. The only time I’ve seen him since was at my wedding in Utah, about a decade later. I hadn’t even realized that my parents had invited him and was pleasantly surprised that he was there.

Il y a un terrain de golf non loin de chez moi qui s’appellle Connemara. Je suis incapable de le voir sans penser à Michel Sardou.

Il faut une version de la chanson « Sacré Charlemagne » qui se plaint des responsabilités de la vie adulte.

Franchement, c’est parfait.

a-ha’s “The Living Daylights” came up on a playlist just now, and it made me want to play Axis and Allies. I received the game the same Christmas my brother received a CD of James Bond music, and the two will always be associated in my mind.

Boosted kiddo’s motivation to help put away the dishes by convincing her to think of it as a magic trick (making the dishwasher’s contents ‘disappear’). Boosted my own by remembering it’s now legal to play Mannheim Steamroller Christmas music around the house.

J’aime quasiment toutes les pistes sur le nouvel album de Stromae, mais j’apprécie surtout « C’est que du bonheur », où il parle en toute franchise des hauts et des bas de l’expérience d’être parent d’un jeune enfant.

Le mec sur RTS Option Musique dit que Johnny Hallyday a fait une version française de « Sweet Home Alabama », et je ne sais pas comment réagir.

Recently, I was listening to a podcast episode that was touching on deconstruction. It was chiefly concerned with the term as it’s used in religious contexts, but to do so, it was going back to its intellectual roots, with Jacques Derrida and Ferdinand de Saussure. As the host, Jared Byas, summarized the ideas of deconstruction:

we can’t ever escape language and the meaning of language depends on other parts of that language. Ugh! It’s so frustrating. In other words, all language is a metaphor, or it’s a symbol that stands in for other language. When I say “bike,” there’s a sense in which that’s a shorthand for that thing over there with the two wheels and the handlebar. The problem, of course, is that when I say that, that’s also words. So when I say “wheels,” we could say that’s a shorthand for the round thing with the spokes and the rubber on the outside. And then we can say, “spokes” that’s shorthand for, on and on, and on, right, you get the point.

Hier, je voulais identifier une chanson française dont je me souvenais. Je ne savais ni son titre ni son auteur—juste que le mot « admiration » figurait plusieurs fois parmi ses paroles. Grâce à DuckDuckGo et pas mal d’effort mental, je l’ai trouvée ! « Bidon » de Alain Souchon.

Ce matin, j’ai couru mes cinq petits kilomètres sans écouteurs—un évènement rarissime. Je dis pas que je vais faire comme ça tout le temps, mais je suis content de savoir que je peux laisser les podcasts et la musique chez moi quand je veux.

Using the Stardew Valley soundtrack as a chores anthem seems to get kiddo more excited (or at least less resentful) about helping out around the house.

I put in an earbud an hour or two ago so I could listen to music while preparing class readings, and I’m only now realizing that I never hit play.

Cet après-midi, je fais des corrections en écoutant ma collection de musique francophone. Après une quinzaine d’années d’effort, je suis bien content de ce que je peux écouter quand je veux.