ELLLLLLLFFFFFFF POOOOOOOOWWWWWEEEEEERRRRRRRR!!!!!!!

Raise your hands if you know Elf Power. I count two of you and I'm not counting myself. How many of you know the Elephant Six consortium? A few more hands, that's good. Well, for those of you to whom Elephant Six means nothing, what about Neutral Milk Hotel? Christina, you don't have to raise your hand again because you already raised it for Elf Power. But I will acknowledge that you like the Hotel. Anyway, Elf Power has arguably one of the worst names in indiedom. I would only be more embarassed by saying that I liked the Marshmallow Coast (which I don't, I think they stink). Despite the rotten name, they've produced some good stuff. Originally, it was prog-rockish, but the album that really hooks me is Walking with the Beggar Boys. Their other stuff is hit and miss, but that album is so tight. The longest song is probably about 4 minutes, the shortest around 2 minutes. But it's melodic, poppy indie stuff. I know that a lot of EP fans were turned off actually because they felt that EP had gone too poppy. My only comment to that is how can a band with the name Elf Power ever go too poppy? They'll never be accepted by the establishment even if they start singing like Mariah Carey. Sorry, it ain't gonna happen. No possibility of selling out. So, let's move on. I'm Doug Call and I approve of this album. One of these days I'm going to pull out a review that goes song by song and describes the genius of the album. But this is not one of those days. Suffice it to say that this album is a top album from '03(?) and I don't think that many people know about it. Their latest one, Back to the Web is a grower, not as immediate as WWBB.

Music plays such an integral part in the way I behave while driving. Example: Me and another car both need to get by a parked car. We're going opposite ways. If I had in Pearl Jam, or Faith No More, or even Jimmy Eat World, I might hold my ground and make the other car move. I was not listening to any of those bands at the time. I was listening to the Decemberists (16 Military Wives to be exact). Without a thought, I backed up and let the other guy go first. Yeah, when you're living in Maryland and you have to make the quick decision: Is my music tougher than his hip-hop? If you think he's listening to Nelly or Usher or Justin Timberlake while you have some blistering indie or grunge, then you don't back down (like Tom Petty). However, if you're listening to a wussy liberal literate group from the Northwest, you just hand over your Man card (Scrubs fans know what I'm talking about) and let hip-hop man pass (even if he's listening to Nelly). You would think that I'm doomed to be letting others win this little game what with me having the Decemberists AND Elf Power in the car. Well, let me tell you misters and missuseseses, if this happens again with EP on, I can just flip to the song Skeleton and play it loudly, especially the part about the skeleton licking your wounds tonight. Not sure what that means, but it's enough to freak out a man who's only being instructed to shake his tailfeather.

When I was in high school, I was fond of saying that life has taken my ego, ground it into powder, mixed it well with water and then made me drink it. Ha ha, typical self-loathing monsterous teenager that wears black (somehow a shock to people that know me now, as if my personality is just all sunshiney and TRA LA LA) complaint. But, this weekend, I received a couple more kicks to the face. I guess I look young. So the people say. But I was at the DC temple this weekend helping the youth put up lights on trees. As I'm carrying a ladder with a 19 year old missionary, he asks me if I need to get in the group picture. I say, "No, I'm a leader, I don't need to be in the picture." He doesn't say anything for a bit and then asks, "So, are you preparing to go on a mission?" I said, "I'm actually married with two kids and go off a mission five years ago." The next day, I'm introducd to a new member in the ward as I'm holding my 4 month old. And she asks, "Oh, is this your brother?" This is the latest in a series of events that began with my dad asking how much my entrance fee would be somewhere in England when I was 17 and the man responding, "Oh, the boy?" and charged my dad the child's fare. It's been fairly perpetual since then, the most recent prior to these last two instances was when a woman at the temple asked if I was a youth or a leader. For the record, I'm twenty-six. Mid-to-late twenties. Don't I look it?