Please advise.

I wish it was 2009 when the biggest stress in my life was putting the finishing touches to a new iTunes playlist. It's 2013 and I'm the only 23 year old who seeks out Kitty Pryde on Spotify. That doesn't bother me. What bothers me is that I can't say "probably" or "trying" in front of my boss, but doesn't he realize that i'm PROBABLY TRYING to make him happy?

Did I learn nothing* in college? after years of TRYING I've [almost] eliminated "really" from my writing vocabulary. It's another long journey to eliminate "trying" from my verbal. I'm 23 for christ's sake - if I'm not trying now I don't know when I'll ever try again.

Work isn't that bad when you take away my boss, [select] co-workers, budgets, major label music, and hierarchy. If every day at work consisted of socializing, long lunch breaks, and online shopping then i'd see a future in the music industry. For now, I see a future in becoming a professional Bravo TV analyzer and fart-sound-maker when someone bends over.

Best part/worst part about work would be communicating with Peter. When I say communicate it means we throw sentences at each other in military fashion. Our conversations go:

Peter

Did you get an answer from Bonnie about the vinyl deadline?

Sasha

I called and left a message, also emailed.

Peter

I don't need the play-by-play, give me the bottom line.

Sasha

No.

Peter

No what?

Sasha

No do not have an answer yet.

Peter

How come?

Sasha

Because she hasn't answered my message or email.

Peter

Ok, good. Give me an update by end of day today.

An important lesson is to stay away from the play-by-play. The only issue is that I speak fluent play-by-play, its my first language. Sometimes I can't shut up - my native tongue rambles on leading me into verbal battle with Peter. The more I talk the worse it gets until Peter looks like he's about to strangle me. We are two of the most opposite people trying to work together to "make shit happen"**. I'm always trying to be two steps ahead of him, but I'm just barely catching up at best. My favorite moment with Peter was in the second week of training on the job, I said something funny and Peter said, "ha, you're funny! You're good". I was so proud of myself because recently I've fantasized about being a professional comedian. Its been nothing but a downhill ride from there.

In situations like mine, the best part about work is the [other] people you work with because lets face it, your serious relationships are with you boss and coworkers. 90% of your day is with them, and it's going to be that way until you die or unless you're a zumba instructor (I've recently taken one zumba class and realized how amazing the life of a fitness instructor must be).

It's ridiculous that I'm still intimidated by authority. It's even more ridiculous that authority figures and higher up executives thrive off of that fear - they absolutely love it and its both intriguing and disgusting to watch egos flare in and out of company meetings. The new tour marketing assistant, Yara, got a first hand whiff of the battle of the gods when her boss, Elyse, and Peter got into a power struggle during a planning meeting. We were on the sidelines taking notes when the egos flared and verbal insults were pitched back and forth. Before that day we hadn't exchanged two words, but with one glance at each other we suddenly understood how fellow assistants were pretty much each other's lifeline in the building. we can't lean on our bosses, and we can lean on each other's bosses, we can only lean on each other to make shit happen (he likes to yell this at me and my interns in a southern twang when he's feeling congenial. "We make shit happen! That's the Team Standish way!").

Because I'm in marketing I get to work with all the departments at the label thus interacting with almost every assistant. Having that kind of access has done wonders to my social life. Assistants get it. Especially at this label, we all wade through the same trenches, even the lucky few with fun bosses and little-to-no demand (those are usually the dumber kids who aren't trusted with anything heavier than answering phones and scheduling lunches) get it better than the executives and directors. After a while its these assistant friends who are the only people you can talk to about how shitty your day is or how crazy you boss has been lately. #HollywoodAssistants is only relevant to your assistant friends, not your roommate, not your boyfriend, not your parents. Its so comforting to know that every morning when I wake up with that twang of anxiety and reach for my blackberry to check work email, the rest of my fellow assistant friends are waking up with that same twang. I don't wish this lifestyle on anyone, I'm just glad I'm not going through it myself.

The thought of dedicating myself to one career or type of work so thoroughly that it takes up every last part of my life is about as intriguing as taking a class entitled Hangover Spin at the neighborhood gym on Sundays.  At this point in life it looks like thats the only way to make a living these days, no matter what industry. We can't all jaunt off in an enlightened huff like Anne Hathaway does at the end of The Devil Wears Prada and land firmly on our feet in our real dream job after this stint is over.

 Its hard to say if i'm inspired by Lena Dunham's bravery ('inspired' used loosely) or if i'm really this bitter. Lines are beginning to blur. so is my eyesight, as i'm now 40% dependent on my reading glasses.

I hope I never forget how I had to read my boss' emails over the phone to him every night as he drove home from work. How I had to torture every employee at the label with deadlines, follow-ups, and meeting requests twice a day every day. I hope I never forget how tight I held my tongue when Peter would contradict himself and prove me wrong over every detail. I hope I don't forget these things because without these experiences, I wouldn't be _____________.

*I love italicized font.
**Peter's catchphrase. He says it at least twice a week and whenever he introduces himself to a work related client, "I'm Peter, nice to meet you. I make shit happen".

New York, You Exist.

Part I.

I should have loved New York. Everyone loves New York. People write songs about it and filmmakers flock to the concrete jungle to shoot it. I was there on my parent’s dime anyway, and I should have loved every minute of it.

Maybe it was the suffocating summer humidity, or the streets that reeked of trash and urine that persuaded my sentiment, but I realized soon after move in day that I didn’t need this experience to complete my full circle of adulthood, nor had I really wanted it. The decision to live in the city lied within my ambition to impress upon my parents that I could do what it takes for a career. Twenty-one years old and already making sacrifices for my non-existent job, appropriating all the wrong reasons.

Mostly, I was lonely in New York City, whereas I was never lonely in California, southern or northern. Everyone in New York is lonely and the dreariness is oppressive, just like the jungle weather that changes hourly. People pretend like they have something to do and somewhere to go and they walk into you on the street on the subway – I think everyone just needs to walk with a purpose when they’re out on the streets of New York.

The employees at my internship were all dead. Three days a week I free-labored from 10-5:30 at a music journal publication only to have my words reorganized, rewritten, and retouched by assistant editor Christine or managing editor Marisa. We all sat in the same decrepit office room and didn’t converse even =once a day; if anyone had to say something they would send an instant message or email from their computer.

On my first day at College Music Journal, I drank enough coffee to keep myself perky and energetic throughout the morning until my late afternoon lunch break, an unusual habit in my diet and a well-learned mistake.

I arrived early and discovered that no one else was at the office; to kill time I explored a couple of blocks around the flatiron district. Out of nerves and lack of something productive to do, I proceeded to seek out my third cup of coffee from a morning pastry stand then rushed over to CMJ, hoping I could properly introduce myself to the editors and co-interns before the busy day started.

Upon arrival I was swept up in the bustle of a fast paced magazine publication, and got my first couple of story assignments before I had my company email set up.  The other interns didn’t look up as I approached the conference table – they were all sitting with their headphones on, typing furiously on their laptops.  I got to work and tried to catch up with the pace. Editors and managers walked to and from the conference room assigning random interns with proof-reads, news stories, or features to be pitched later that afternoon.  I let the morning slip away and by late afternoon realized that I hadn’t left for lunch yet. I also realized I had to pee from my three cups of coffee and two water bottles acquired from my morning walk. 

I grabbed the bathroom key and hustled down the hall. It took about five painful minutes to realize that the key wouldn’t work in the lock, and there was absolutely no one in the hallway that I could ask for help.

It was easy to decide where to get lunch since my mind was occupied with other issues, and I ran into the pizzeria two blocks down from the office building I discovered earlier that morning. After practically inhaling my lunch I walked directly to the restroom in the back of the pizzeria with the glow of relief painted on my face, only to quickly melt away once I opened the restroom door. The stench of urine and vomit hit my nose and tickled my gag reflex. The walls were dripping with brown substances and the toilet was colored yellow from the various customers who most likely misaimed their stream.

I practically jogged back to CMJ, determined to unlock the bathroom before getting back to work for the rest of the afternoon. I grabbed the key and headed directly for the restroom again, failing once more over the lock. I heard the elevator door open and saw Kate, one of the editorial interns, rounding the corner on her way back from lunch.

“Can you help me with the key? I’m desperate!” I called out to her. She smiled timidly and approached the bathroom door, watching me perform my pee-dance that I hadn’t used since 2^nd grade. “I’m not really good with keys, I’m horrible at it actually,” she muttered as she jiggled the key in the lock a few times, and then handed it back to me. “Sorry, I can’t. Maybe try the men’s room?” I hobbled over to the men’s restroom across the hallway to see if the key would fit. The door was slightly ajar. “Is this totally weird?” I asked Kate. She shrugged. “When you gotta go, you gotta go.” She turned and walked back to the office, and without further hesitation I slipped into the restroom and shut the door behind me. There were two small stalls and a few urinals lined against the wall, and I quickly slipped into a stall as the glow of relief returned to my body. 

I reached for the lock, but quickly recoiled as I heard footsteps coming down the hall. There was no way out as he burst into the bathroom and ran the sink, muttering something to himself while vigorously washing his hands. I peered through the crack in the door to see if he was planning on leaving anytime soon, but he was staring at his reflection and splashing water on his face. “You can do it. You have to do it!” he kept repeating. “You deserve this raise. Just go in there and ask him”. At this point I had no idea if this guy was ever going to leave the bathroom, and I decided that the best thing to do was to waltz out of the stall with an air of nonchalance, and return safely to the office without ever seeing this man again.

The look on the man’s face matched the feeling in my stomach as I casually washed my hands and tried to explain the faulty lock on the women’s room door. He didn’t seem to hear me through his fit of shock and embarrassment, so I dodged out of there and tucked back into the CMJ office, forcing myself to focus on writing. A few hours passed before the senior editor took the opportunity to introduce the interns to the office staff. “Sorry we didn’t get around to it sooner, but we’re strapped for time and on deadlines so this has been our first chance”. The interns and I walked into another conference room where most of the staff was waiting for the end of day wrap up meeting. “Hi, I’m Jeremy. Webmaster and graphic designer,” I head a voice behind me. I turned around and introduced myself to the man from the bathroom. I blushed deep red as I attempted a smile, and sat as far away from him during the end of day meeting as possible.

I’ve come to learn that there’s no point being embarrassed over something that doesn’t matter.  Jeremy could have thought I was some kind of bathroom pervert, or a transvestite, or just an idiot who still can’t figure out keys and locks, but who cares about Jeremy from CMJ anyway? If New York did anything for me, it taught me that it’s a lot easier to dish the bitterness back to the environment, something oddly more therapeutic than holding it all in with an air of politeness. Sometimes I found that I was rude just for the sake of being rude. I wanted to seem like I was a real New Yorker, and I wanted to trick myself into fitting in so that I could start living there mentally.

By around the second week of my internship I started to leave early, because the last half hour consisted mostly of emailing and facebook. I would jump onto the N or R train and travel uptown to the Lexington ave./59^th st. station, where home was only a short five blocks away. The stop before mine, 5^th ave., was refreshing because most commuters got off at that station and I could finally sit down for the 2 minutes until my stop. The struggle to exit the train was due partly to the fact that I was leaving a nice air conditioned room, and also because a sea of people struggled to squeeze into the train as a smaller number of people struggled to squeeze out.

If you don’t swim you sink, so I discovered that muttering “excuse me” as I tried to get through the doors would sink me – my extra commute to and from Queens on evening taught me the lesson I deserved. No more spinelessness. As the train approached Lexington Avenue the next evening I stood poised at the entrance, Taking Back Sunday blasting in my headphones, knees braced as the swerving train rolled to a stop at the station. I started digging my way through the crowd pouring into the train as soon as the doors opened.  I felt the hot breath of the sticky humid subway station and propelled myself into the chaos with purpose and tenacity. I was streamlining for the escalator bank as I bumped against shoulder after shoulder in the crowd. As I stepped onto the escalator at the other end of the platform, I realized I was sweating and panting a little, but satisfied with my newfound backbone. From behind me someone called out “well EXCUSE YOU!” and I turned as I slowly ascended to the exit.  A large, middle-aged woman stood at the bottom of the escalator glaring darkly at me. “I said ‘EXCUSE YOU’, bitch!” she called up at me. I was almost at the exit, I could have just turned away and let it go. I would never see her again. Instead, I kept my eyes locked on hers and called back, “oh, you’re excused!” I then hastily shuffled towards the turnstiles and mounted the steps towards the surface of the city.

I was empowered by those words and heat and music and focus. 

Odd Blood: Yeasayer’s eclectic release

Yeasayer, the Brooklyn based experimental rock band, has made a name for themselves long before their second full-length album, Odd Blood, was released on February 8^th of this year. Often compared to Animal Collective and Dirty Projectors, the band describes their eclectic and psychedelic sound on Odd Blood as “Middle Eastern-psych-snap-gospel”, diving deeper into electronic beats and heavy synthetics than their first studio album released in 2007, All Hour Cymbals. The band, consisting of Chris Keating, Ira Wolf Tuton, Anand Wilder, Ahmed Gallab, and Jason Trammell, has played in music festivals around the world, from Lollapalooza in Chicago to the Reading and Leeds Festival in England, and has built up blogger credit and plenty of online attention. They were even named one of MTV’s “Seven Bands from SXSW That Will Matter”, among indie bands Ra Ra Riot and The Black Lips.

Odd Blood delivers a new sound from the band and is heavier on the merging of different genres, relying on more pop-rhythms than their previous music.  Don’t give up on the first try, for if you are not hooked upon the first listen of the album in its entirety, you are not alone. There is a lot to listen to and a lot of sound to absorb, and in order to really appreciate the album in its entirety, it takes more than one listen.  Upon my third cycle through the album, I noticed the skill that the band has in integrating their influential genres—the 80’s synth beat merges melodically with the album’s overarching layer of pop, and the Middle Eastern beat is featured throughout most tracks.  Some of the strongest tracks are the albums official singles,  “Ambling Alp” and “O.N.E.”, the former serving as the more rock-sounding track and the latter experimenting with reggae beats coupled with synthesizers.  Another notable track is “Madder Red”, a slower, more folk-y track that shows off the band’s vocal harmonizing and Keating’s impressive range. “I Remember” is the romantic ballad about the girl who got away, as Keating croons: “I remember making out on an airplane/ Still afraid of flying, but with you I’d die today”.  Enough to break a heart or two, the lyrics in Odd Blood don’t disappoint. 

Yeasayer is scheduled to perform at Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival next weekend, and is surely one of the highly awaited performers this year.  

Contra to Vampire Weekend: Sophomore Slump

New York based indie babes Vampire Weekend released their sophomore album on January 11, 2010, titled Contra. Although debuting as #1 on the Billboard 200 and gathering blogger hype nationally, don't expect to be swept off your feet at first listen.

Since the release of their self-titled album, Vampire Weekend, in January of 2008, the quartet have earned noteworthy praise and critique on both a national and international level. The band, which includes frontman and lead guitarist Ezra Koenig, keyboardist and backing vocalist Rostam Batmanglij, drummer Chris Tomson, and bassist Chris Baio, dominated the indie and pop-rock music scenes satisfying charts in the U.S, and even peaked with number one spots in the UK with their singles "A-Punk" and "Oxford Comma". The band offered promise and longevity in the music scene, even landing tracks in popular films (Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist, I Love You, Man).

I admit that it took me a few listens to really get into the band, but that's usually what it takes to appreciate new music. Vampire Weekend is truly unique in sound and origin. Their music is highly orchestrated, yet is influenced by African and Western Classical music. They sound like the east-coast prep schoolers that they are, having met during their term Columbia University. From there, they went on to self-produce Vampire Weekend financing it by holding full-time jobs. The result was a well recorded, strong debut album.

Where Vampire Weekend flourishes, though, Contra lacks in originality and quality as an album in its entirety. Sure, there are the tracks that really stand out, such as the previously released "Horchata" and "Cousins", but even after my third listen I found it hard to appreciate the quirky melodies and offbeat crooning for college love, at least, in comparison to their self-titled album. To put it in total indie perspective, when Will Dana reviewed the album for Rolling Stone, he stated that if Vampire Weekend was Rushmore, then Contra was definitelyThe Royal Tenanbaums. If you must compare Vampire Weekend's albums to Wes Anderson films, Contra would definitely be The Life Aquatic, which has its shining moments but is nothing special in its entirety.

The album starts off with the muddled and tuneless track, "California English", shouting out to California counties, college girls, and Toms shoes. Like a roller coaster, the album has its ups and downs from there, with the highs at "Cousins", "Holiday", and "Horchata", and lows with "Diplomats Son", "I Think Ur a Contra", and "Taxi Cab". Its a bumpy ride from beginning to end, but listen after listen makes it easier to appreciate the start-to-finish process. After such an ingenious first album, its no wonder why Contra is such an obvious sophomore slump, even with its highlights sprinkled throughout. It is definitely worth more than one listen, and still carries the original and fun sound that makes Vampire Weekend the fantastic band that they are. Because of the band's popular background and reputation in the music scene, they will remain on the pedestal that they earned with their self-titled. Its a good thing Contra is their sophomore.

KROQ Locals Only Spot

106.7 fm

Among other responsibilities and necessities – including booking shows, recording and selling EPs, and touring—band promotion is a time consuming and tedious job that some bands and artists don’t have enough time or money to do. Mainstream radio, in a word, can seem inapproachable to smaller bands still struggling to make it onto a label. With all the rules and regulations stated by record companies and the FCC, radio does not seem like a marketable approach for the smaller, unsigned band. Thanks to the world-famous Los Angeles station KROQ, bands can rest assured that their music has a chance on the FM airwaves every Sunday night at 9pm. The show is called Locals Only, and it presents its listeners with new music from bands all over the Los Angeles area. DJ Kat Corbett runs the hour-long program, during which she interviews bands, holds in-studio acoustic performances, plays the newest music from L.A. artists, and updates listeners with local concerts, shows, and festivals. Locals Only alumni include Silversun Pickups, Sea Wolf, Stone Temple Pilots, and Foreign Born. The program has grown to incorporate their own promotional showcases that benefit both the band and the station, teaming up with well-known L.A. venues such as The Echo and Spaceland. Are you in a band? KROQ Locals Only is interested. DJ Kat will personally listen to your demo, and contact you if she finds it fitting for the show. All you have to do is visit KROQ’s very informative website or myspace page, and follow the steps for submitting your music to the station. Locals Only is a program that was started in order to promote bands to all of KROQ’s listeners, and has not stopped expanding and widening its range of listeners from the beginning. Los Angeles musicians and bands can rest assured that they will be heard, they will be promoted, and they will make it to the FM airwaves.

Corey Case Show Review

Singer/songwriter Corey Case is no stranger to the Orange County music scene; in fact, this folk-indie musician has had his part in more than one OC band, festival, and numerous venues throughout the Los Angeles and Orange County music scene. On Monday, November 9^th Case played a show at La Cave in Costa Mesa, along with his new band Corey Case and The Swine, opening for Will Crum. In the dimly lit bar/steakhouse, Case took the stage with his band and introduced his newly released album with a wide smile. The crowd, made up of groups of restaurant diners, bar-hoppers, and fans of the bands, quiets down as Case starts to play. His nasal voice cuts above the noise and tings in my ears; his songs are clearly vocal-driven.

Performing with his full band tonight, Case intertwines his usually soft, acoustic-fold melodies with the loud and energetic addition of a live backup band. Case’s performance thrives with more musicians on stage, and his music actually adopts and epic feel. Soon into the show, the atmosphere of La Cave has come alive with musical energy. Case’s voice gains confidence, as if now he can unleash his vocal talents, now that the entire room is captivated by his music. Case will continue to play a number of shows in Costa Mesa and Santa Ana, promoting his self-titled EP release. He has played shows ranging from Parisian cafés to major festival bandstands, but in a small pub and restaurant, Case happily finds his home.

Cazz Brindis Album Review

Hometown: Malibu, Ca

When you wish upon a star, Cazz Brindis appears.

At first listen, the new Cazz Brindis EP comes across as a string of soothing lullabies that is most fitting as background music. But there’s something in the sound that made me listen again, and round two grew on me. Peaceful and dreamy are the best words to describe the listening experience of Cazz’s EP, with the noteworthy track “Mirrors”. That song is spectacular, moving gracefully from a lullaby sounding song into a music-only melody fit for a film. Cazz mixes his acoustic appeal with pop, delivering an emotional performance which can slightly sound like a Disney lullaby from the older films. His lyrics are motivating and uplifting, their message as sweet as the harmonies he weaves into his accurately falsetto-singing voice. The arrangements are simple, but careful. Acoustic guitars, strings, and bells buzz around the central piano tracks. Simplicity is refreshing. Cazz’s lyrics are the highlight – his message is of innocent love. Author Fanny Howe once noted that the love between two sixteen-year old teens is truer than the love of grown adults. Young lovers who are content to just lay with each other all day long have something that adults who run a routine love life don’t have. Cazz’s music is about finding this “something” that seems to be lost in so many relationships. His music will take you back to a time when you lived in a world with your lover and nobody else.

Myspace.com/cazzmusic