I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: THE ZOLAS (3 Tracks on CBC 3 Radio) (2009).

I must have heard “The Great Collapse” on CBC 3 a few weeks ago because I heard it today and it was so catchy I was sure that I knew the band.  And yet, when I saw the artist, I’d never heard of them before.

But it was so catchy I had to investigate.

The Zolas are from Vancouver, BC and must be the least self-promoting band ever.  They have a Myspace and a Facebook site, but man it was hard to find anything about their CD. It’s available at Amazon (.ca and .com) but it’s for sale at a much more reasonable price here. (Ah, except that it’s $11 shipping to the States, which is more than the disc itself.)

The band list says there’s only two member and that they were previously (or concurrently) in a band called Lotus Children.  But that this incarnation of their songwriting chops is a bit more dramatic, baroque even.

And these three songs have instantly made me want to get their disc.  They are poppy, with wonderful choruses, and yet there are tempo changes and falsettos and surprise twists and turns.

“You’re Too Cool” has about three completely different songs in it, starting as a rollicking rock song, having a rousing chorus, and then, in the middle rather than a bridge we get almost a completely new, mellow song.  “The Great Collapse” is a piano fueled romper with the real catch being the unexpected minor chord at the end of the verses.  The third song “Marlaina Kamikaze” alters the style from the other two with a magnificent guitar intro.  Although it also shifts at the midpoint to include more piano marching type music.  And another killer chorus.  The bridge then comes from out of nowhere (or perhaps from the circus) with a great piano breakdown section, slowly building up to the chanting chorus once more.

Thanks, CBC, for this band.

[READ: January-February 2010] Anonyponymous

This is the third book that Sarah gave me for Christmas.  I thought I’d read it more quickly, but I got caught up in other books.

So, we’d read a summary of this book in The Week.  This book is a collection of word origins that come from a person’s name (eponymous).  The twist is that for the most part, the people are forgotten or unknown (hence anonymous).  Anon-eponymous, aha!

There are tons of etymological books out there, but this one is very deliberately designed as a casual reader’s book.  In fact, when a book lists itself in the definition of “crapper” then you can tell the tone of th ebook?  What?  Yes:

Crapper: A toilet; also, in phr. “crapper material,” a book or magazine meant to be read in the bathroom, e.g., this one.

So, even if you don’t know anything about etymology or eponyms, you’ve heard that Crapper invented the toilet.  This is probably the most “obvious” definition in the book (most are far more obscure).  But, even though there has been a lot of speculation about Crapper, here’s his take on it:

Thomas Crapper is a man yet to receive his due. Most reputable arbiters of etymology deem urban legend the idea that he had anything to do with the word crapper. To be sure, the term crap predates Mr. Crapper. Crappa was a medieval Latin term meaning “chaff,” from which developed many variations, all generally meaning something leftover or garbagey. Crapper as a last name similarly has agricultural roots: It is a variation on cropper. The first usage of crap in regards to shit is recorded in 1846, too early for it to have anything to do with Thomas Crapper, who was not yet ten. Young Crapper, however, would grow up to be an early purveyor of the flush toilet. His London firm manufactured thousands of such toilets, all emphatically marked crapper’s. American servicemen visiting London during the Great War thought this was the funniest damn thing they had ever seen, and, according to one theory, brought back home with them a new word.

So it’s vaguely scholarly, but more just sorta fun.

There were a number of interesting entries in here.  But I have to say, I think the really interesting stuff was saved for the Notes in the back.  (And what’s worse is that you don’t even know that there are Notes in the back unless you actually look for them (there’s no footnotes or asterisks or anything).  The Notes give more detailed information about his sources and even some fascinating ancillary comments (I’ve no idea why this information wasn’t included in the book proper, as for the most part each is only a line or two and would spruce up the entries).

This book is certainly a good bathroom book. The tone is conversational and often quite funny.  It may also inspire people to do more research and find out some great etymological gems out there.  You won’t be using this for any research papers, but that doesn’t stop it from being a fun book to have.