"Everything is going to be alright, when we go Shopping" - BNL, Everything, 2003
What will I do if they ever stop recording?
I never thought I would say this about a band but the Barenaked Ladies have done it again with their latest album - Everything.
Driving today in the Red Subaru on the way to exchange some gifts and pick up some for my family Christmas (we've spent Christmas with D's family and are heading to see my on Monday for new years! woo hoo), I decided I would enjoy a little 'me' time and listen to what I now know believe to be my favourite present.
I just fell in love with every song. Every single one. Everything, you might say.
Each one was unique but catchy. I found myself singing along instantly. The words are always so true. So poetic but not pretentious. And every time I hear a new album by them, I feel like they've been living part of my life while writing the new songs because I find I relate to so many of them, in so many ways.
I recommend this band for anyone who has a sense of humour but can appreciate the importance of a correctly place phrase.
They're no “Jennie from the Block” - they actually continue to live in the same city they grew up in, write about places in Canada and still live fairly down to earth lives - I suppose as much as can be expected.
They've only been a hit the U.S. since their Stunt album but I remember the first concert I went to. In was at the London Western Fairgrounds in 1991 and some how, me and two of my friends had managed to get in the front row.
I had gone that day with my parents to the fair but, being a cool teenager, I must have gone off with my friends at night to see they play.
We were so squished. People were jovial, though, swaying back and for the to classics such as ‘Be My Yoko Ono’ and ‘Brian Wilson’. We kept smiling at each other. We had been sneaking and squeezed our way to the front.
I could smell smoke all around me. Those were the days when I swatted it out of my face. In later years, I would scowl at people like that as I was hacking away on a butt.
It must have been about halfway through when things got more exciting.
Ed Robertson had a mohawk the size of DJ Jazzy Jeff back then. He was strumming away on the right side of the stage. As he turned with a goofy look, I pointed my fingers up at him. He pointed out to me and gave me a nod. I started screaming with excitement. Could it be? This band I had listened to on the radio and bought their newest album were actually in front of my eyes and one of the members just gave me a wave?
It was a pretty real moment for my hormones and me.
I got this idea. Perhaps, now that I’m at the front, I could somehow get pushed over to the other side of this barrier and be closer to them. Perhaps it could all be happening.
Perhaps someone who was being body surfed over the people thought he was being helpful when he fell on my head and pushed it towards the metal bar.
I screamed. I was now dying. I must have had a concussion or at least have broken the skin. I was definitely going to pass out.
I have always been quite melodramatic.
The security guards pulled me from behind the barriers – and there they were. For a brief second, all that stood between the band and I was the wooden stage and about 4 feet of height.
And then it was over. Whisked away by security guards I didn’t even get to hear them sing one note or see them look at me one time before being sent off the side and into the fairgrounds.
I will always remember that as my Beatles moment – although, I am in now way comparing the genius – however, it’s all relative sometimes when it comes to emotions.
It inspired me so much today just listening to their new stuff, knowing that no matter what they sing, I will always seem to enjoy it.
I’m not sure if it’s them or me or a combination of both but I’m glad I’ve stuck with a band with staying power. I’m not sure what I’ll do if they stop recording.
What will I do if they ever stop recording?
I never thought I would say this about a band but the Barenaked Ladies have done it again with their latest album - Everything.
Driving today in the Red Subaru on the way to exchange some gifts and pick up some for my family Christmas (we've spent Christmas with D's family and are heading to see my on Monday for new years! woo hoo), I decided I would enjoy a little 'me' time and listen to what I now know believe to be my favourite present.
I just fell in love with every song. Every single one. Everything, you might say.
Each one was unique but catchy. I found myself singing along instantly. The words are always so true. So poetic but not pretentious. And every time I hear a new album by them, I feel like they've been living part of my life while writing the new songs because I find I relate to so many of them, in so many ways.
I recommend this band for anyone who has a sense of humour but can appreciate the importance of a correctly place phrase.
They're no “Jennie from the Block” - they actually continue to live in the same city they grew up in, write about places in Canada and still live fairly down to earth lives - I suppose as much as can be expected.
They've only been a hit the U.S. since their Stunt album but I remember the first concert I went to. In was at the London Western Fairgrounds in 1991 and some how, me and two of my friends had managed to get in the front row.
I had gone that day with my parents to the fair but, being a cool teenager, I must have gone off with my friends at night to see they play.
We were so squished. People were jovial, though, swaying back and for the to classics such as ‘Be My Yoko Ono’ and ‘Brian Wilson’. We kept smiling at each other. We had been sneaking and squeezed our way to the front.
I could smell smoke all around me. Those were the days when I swatted it out of my face. In later years, I would scowl at people like that as I was hacking away on a butt.
It must have been about halfway through when things got more exciting.
Ed Robertson had a mohawk the size of DJ Jazzy Jeff back then. He was strumming away on the right side of the stage. As he turned with a goofy look, I pointed my fingers up at him. He pointed out to me and gave me a nod. I started screaming with excitement. Could it be? This band I had listened to on the radio and bought their newest album were actually in front of my eyes and one of the members just gave me a wave?
It was a pretty real moment for my hormones and me.
I got this idea. Perhaps, now that I’m at the front, I could somehow get pushed over to the other side of this barrier and be closer to them. Perhaps it could all be happening.
Perhaps someone who was being body surfed over the people thought he was being helpful when he fell on my head and pushed it towards the metal bar.
I screamed. I was now dying. I must have had a concussion or at least have broken the skin. I was definitely going to pass out.
I have always been quite melodramatic.
The security guards pulled me from behind the barriers – and there they were. For a brief second, all that stood between the band and I was the wooden stage and about 4 feet of height.
And then it was over. Whisked away by security guards I didn’t even get to hear them sing one note or see them look at me one time before being sent off the side and into the fairgrounds.
I will always remember that as my Beatles moment – although, I am in now way comparing the genius – however, it’s all relative sometimes when it comes to emotions.
It inspired me so much today just listening to their new stuff, knowing that no matter what they sing, I will always seem to enjoy it.
I’m not sure if it’s them or me or a combination of both but I’m glad I’ve stuck with a band with staying power. I’m not sure what I’ll do if they stop recording.
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