A musician I follow posted his five favorite live albums, a list I’ve been thinking of making since sometime last year. So this is what I came up with on the fly.
Five favorite live albums
The Seventy Sevens—88
Billy Joel—Songs in the Attic
Fleetwood Mac—The Dance
Eden Burning—Smilingly Home
Styx—Caught in the Act (I know; sorry)
It’s a good list, though I’m sure I’m forgetting some killers. If I were to spin U2’s Under a Blood Red Sky right now it might supplant the Billy Joel album.
Meanwhile I’m making a list of ten saddest songs. Still a work in progress. I’m up to six now. Spoiler: there are two Dar Williams songs in the top five.
I’m in a little of a dark space these days. Not oppressively, paralyzingly dark; just kind of grey and overcast all the time. And not in the pleasant way. For now, I’m just blaming it all on second lockdown (Lockdown 2: Die Harder) and the weird displacement I feel in the transition.
It’s a jellyfish week too, with Wednesday the last day of the influx. With the storm we had the weekend before last, I stayed away from the water (because runoff), and I’m sure two weeks without jumping in the ocean isn’t helping my mood.
I was hoping to make a roast beef in the Instant Pot — like the deli meat — but my local supermarket didn’t have a decent roast cut. So I picked up a pork shoulder and prepared it a different way from my usual treatments. This was basically shoyu with brown sugar, garlic, and something else escaping me. It came out pretty great. I’ve used it this week for tacos and quesadillas. Tomorrow I’m hoping to throw together an orzo salad.
The second Brian Regan special I saw wasn’t great. Last night I watched the Craig Ferguson special and it wasn’t great either. They’ve both been a lot better. I also watched The Girl Next Door with Elisha Cuthbert and Emile Hirsch (and a young Paul Dano). It’s charming and cute but there’s some sleaziness I really don’t care for.
I walked 10K steps Monday evening while listening to some news podcasts, rather than while reading. Tuesday evening I didn’t do anything. Guess I’ll have to walk Wednesday since I can’t swim. I’m considering returning to late-night walks through the neighborhood, but taking it a little easier. 13K to 15K will kill my knee, but maybe 10K two nights in a row with one night off?
I’m ending this here even though I didn’t really say anything. Just have to get to bed. Tryyyyyyying to get some decent sleep.