6A — Tuesday, November 5, 2019
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
By C.C. Burnikel
(c)2019 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
11/05/19
Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle
Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis
11/05/19
ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:
Release Date: Tuesday, November 5, 2019
ACROSS
1 Works on a quilt
5 Team that won
the Women’s
World Cup in
2019
8 Winter skating
sites
13 Yawn-inducing
15 Melancholy
16 Love to pieces
17 Burr, to Hamilton
18 Black-and-yellow
pollinator
20 Fodder for
fantasy football
22 Cause for a
handshake
23 Waited to be
found, maybe
24 Tense tennis
moment
26 Classroom staffer
27 Word after
drinking or driving
28 Maple extract
29 Many an eBay
user
31 Curtain holders
33 Jack of
“Dragnet”
36 Honeycomb
units
37 Volatile situation
40 Lion in “The
Chronicles of
Narnia”
43 Marquee name
44 24-hr. banking
conveniences
48 Sits on the throne
50 Picture file suffix
52 Fish-to-be
53 Batting practice
area
54 Body part that
provides limited
motion
58 Fire pit residue
59 “Soldier of Love”
Grammy winner
60 Much paperwork
61 Mobile download
for single people,
and what the
starts of 18-,
24-, 37- and
54-Across have
in common
64 Takes a breather
66 Kagan on the
bench
67 “Take that!”
68 Chuckleheads
69 Guitarist’s aid
70 Moth-eaten
71 “Pretty Little
Liars” series
novelist Shepard
DOWN
1 Pronoun for a
mom
2 Way, way back
when
3 Sparked, as
one’s appetite
4 “Poison” shrub
5 Flash drive port
6 Riyadh resident
7 Jingle-writing
guys
8 Veil of gloom
9 Poem from an
admirer
10 Ritzy San
Francisco
neighborhood
11 Hanukkah toy
12 Farm machines
14 Traditional stories
19 Dugout rack
items
21 Produce offspring
24 Spoil
25 Opinion pages
26 Echo Dot
assistant
30 Prefix with friendly
32 Place for a play
34 Wager
35 North Carolina fort
38 Place for a stay
39 Court filing
40 Hangouts for
video game
players
41 Chef’s condiment
42 Not as heavy
45 Dietary
supplement once
pitched by Anna
Nicole Smith
46 Centaur or
chimera
47 __ foot in: enter
49 Fluffy rug
51 Norwegian inlet
55 Twin Falls’ state
56 Mount Everest is
on its border with
China
57 Layered cookies
59 Piece of cake
62 Once __ while
63 Deg. of
distinction
65 Retirees’ benefits
org.
In early 2019 Miranda Lambert moved to New
York City, secretly married a police officer and got
some new ink: A wildcard, the queen of hearts,
on her inner right forearm. Cast as a “queen of
heartbreak” by the media when her divorce from
Blake Shelton in 2015 spurred a string of short-
term relationships, Lambert reclaims the narrative
of her up-and-down love life by embracing it.
In her latest album Wildcard, she puts life’s
unpredictability into words against the backdrop
of her move to the city and sonic exploration.
Each song sounds different, but full and fun, all
wildcards themselves.
The first track “White Trash” combats a common
country music critique right off the bat. Yes,
Lambert admits, she’s “upgraded from the barbed
wire” fence for a “nice picket.” And yes, she only
lives in Tennessee part-time. But that doesn’t mean
she should lose her country cred. A funky mix of
banjo and electric
guitar,
the
song
follows
Miranda
through her house,
documenting
the
duct tape and dog
hair,
which
she
attributes to her
upbringing. “New
money, old habits”
Lambert explains.
“White
Trash”
establishes
perspective, but “It All Comes Out in the Wash”
sets the tone of the album. Fun and upbeat, Lambert
declares herself a clean slate. “You take the sin and
the men and you throw ‘em all in / And you put that
sucker on spin,” she advises. With strong backup
vocals and playful lyrics that address awkward
incidents, Lambert lets her listeners know that the
healing process doesn’t always have to be sad and
lonely.
If “It All Comes Out in the Wash” is the car
sing-along song for dealing with a break-up,
then “Bluebird” is the diary entry of the record.
Dark and determined, Lambert assures herself
that when the next storm blows through, she’ll
be able to handle it. “When the house just keeps
on winning / I’ve got a wildcard up my sleeve,”
Lambert winks. And, if the world were to stop
singing, she promises to “keep the bluebird in my
heart.” For those who don’t know, the Bluebird
Cafe is a songwriter hangout in Nashville with a
famous open mic night. With a slow and steady
pace and lovely lyrics, the “Bluebird” showcases
just that — Lambert’s talent for songwriting.
A change in pace, “Locomotive” sounds like
Lambert just stepped off the train in her new home,
ready to throw down — “New York City seems
O.K.” she declares. “Locomotive” is the closest
thing Wildcard has to a rock song, and it also has
one of the album’s most clever turns of phrase: “I’m
sweet tea sippin’ on a front porch, sittin’ / while
my hubby fries chicken / and I’m pluckin’ these
strings.” Although this scene doesn’t quite fit in
with city life, it sets up the following lyrics, “he
gives me wings.” A play on the food and the joy she
gets from being with her husband, Lambert’s voice
soars alongside heavy instrumentation and the
listener can’t help but feel happy for her.
Smirk-worthy lyrics set to a head-nod inducing
groove, Lambert praises her band, her fans and
everything in between in “Pretty Bitchin’.” It’s
insanely catchy. And, even though it seems like she
sings “pretty” every other word, it doesn’t get old.
“Life’s pretty great, life’s pretty weird” she repeats,
summing up her
contentment.
However,
Lambert
acknowledges
that her life hasn’t
always
been
so
great. On “Track
Record,”
she
owns up to having
a
“Past
that’s
checkered / As the
floor at the diner of
Main Street” and chronicles her misadventures in
love. But as messy as she says it is to be a “heart-
wrecker,” the song doesn’t sound like it. Instead,
like a sunny Sunday afternoon drive, it’s bubbly
and laid-back all at once. When Lambert claims “I
can’t help it / I’m in love with love,” the listener
can’t help but believe her.
The album’s closer finds Lambert in “Dark Bars,”
an unexpected retreat into the shadows given all of
the light in the songs that precede it. “I’m not in
pain, I’m not on pills” she eases fears, “but I’m still
hanging out in dark bars.” Despite being in a better
place, Lambert admits that she can be “reckless”
and “desperate.” So maybe it does make sense to
end in melancholy reflection. Both the listener
and Lambert know better than to think that all
the storms have ended and that yesterday’s load of
laundry was the last. But now this queen of hearts
knows her own, and has an album of exploratory,
lyrically-sound songs to show for it.
Miranda is playing new
cards in her latest album
KATIE BEEKMAN
Daily Arts Writer
RCA NASHVILLE
MUSIC REVIEW
Wildcard
Miranda Lambert
RCA Records
Sunday, Oct. 27 witnessed Pokey LaFarge’s
glorious return to Ann Arbor, headlining The Ark’s
annual Fall Fundraiser. Described as a “pre-war soul”
by the event’s Detroit-based MC, DJ Del Villarreal,
and known to The Daily as our favorite musical time-
traveler, LaFarge was a welcome sight. For those
unfamiliar, LaFarge, a borderline regular on the Ann
Arbor music scene, is an artist who carefully walks
the line between indulgence in nostalgia and new
experimentation. His music, steeped in the age-old
foundations of rootsy Americana, mixes dashes of
jazz, old-time country with bright splashes of French
and Spanish flair.
Unsurprisingly, LaFarge put on a fantastic show.
Equal parts crowd-pleasing, fun and vulnerable,
the show filled the house and there wasn’t a frown
in sight. But I have already done my fair share of
Pokey-centric reviews, write-ups and headlines.
There is little more to be said about the magical
musical mastery LaFarge wields on and off stage. In
fact, aside from a few sneak peeks at his upcoming
album, LaFarge performed as expected — he’s
always been a reliable, consistent artist. That’s not
to say his performance at The Ark wasn’t all parts
exhilarating and awe-inducing. Rather, what made
this show worthwhile were the moments in between
— in between songs, lyrics, people — that reaffirmed
why Pokey LaFarge remains a beloved favorite both
in Ann Arbor and around the world.
Here are a few of these defining “Moments in
Between:”
You Gotta Earn It
The lights dim, the crowd took its seats and
Ann Arbor’s “Honky Tonk Angel” took the stage.
Polite and well-mannered, the audience waited in
anticipation, bellies full, the room warm and drowsy
— but drowsy isn’t in Pokey’s dictionary. “Get up,”
heaving the crowd to their feet with a command —
screw angels, it seemed the God of Folk had descended
from his dusty mountain cabin this evening. The
crowd stumbled to their feet, joints popping, backs
cracking. “A pre-show stretch,” LaFarge encouraged;
a satisfied sigh and a lazy groan answer. Grumbles
turn to chuckles, “Make us earn it,” a heckler joked —
LaFarge gave nothing away for free. “The Devil Ain’t
Lazy” opened the show — very subtle, Mr. LaFarge.
Chit-Chat
The audience clumsily sang along, mistimed
claps and slurred lyrics in all their glory. A devoted
fan sang word for word with Pokey — by the third
song, he threw her a playful, measured look, as if
in silent acknowledgment of a capable foe, then
continued playing. He asked us about the Michigan
mitten — we obliged. “But what about the U.P.?” We
all questioned, cueing a familiar existential crisis.
The Lions won and the Giants suck; Pokey LaFarge
sang “drinking tea from my paper cup;” “Sing Ave
Maria,” a heckler called out — LaFarge responded in
disbelief, and challenged his audience to come sing it
instead. “And a clinking van is a happy van, I always
say,” LaFarge instructed — and a clinking backpack
is a happy backpack, I always say, when it comes to
Friday hangovers. “Hold on, I got it,” LaFarge cried
resolutely, obliging a song request then forgetting the
lyrics — once, twice and third time’s the charm as the
words finally flowed out.
Drinkin’ Whiskey
As patrons filed out the doors, the dedicated —
the old-hats — waited patiently. Chants of “Encore,
encore” gradually grew in momentum. Half the
room was empty, doubt crept in — would Pokey really
leave us hanging, just like that? It was as if we were
all jilted lovers, taken by surprise, betrayed. Then,
when hope grew most bleak, LaFarge ambled back
on stage — only to hop right off. Climbing onto a
chair and gathering us around like a flock of sheep,
he strummed his guitar for one last song. “We’re
drinkin’ whiskey tonight,” the audience danced
feverishly around him, as if in ritual. Patrons happily
belted “Drinkin’ whiskey” in bawdy drinking-song
style. We danced with Pokey, we danced with one
another: Eyes smiling, teeth flashing — it was a
moment of pure revelry, unfiltered happiness. Who
needs whiskey when you got good music?
Live at The Ark: Pokey
LaFarge & hella whiskey
Last week I waited with bated breath
for the final star of Halloween’s night sky
to melt into the morning sun of Nov. 1. Put
your skeleton decorations away, people.
The winter solstice fast approaches!
I may be known amongst friends for
having a particular proclivity for the
holiday season, but it’s not just Christmas
carols and Thanksgiving turkeys that put
a smile on my face. It’s also definitely not
the aisles of environmentally unfriendly
wrapping paper and plastic fall-themed
wreaths, either.
There are plenty of drawbacks to the
most wonderful time of the year. Among the
upticks in stress and trips home to childhood
dining
rooms
lie
conversations
with
relatives who insist you’re still growing and
elders who question your career prospects.
In between these unfortunate details we —
the college student body — learn to create
magic within the cracks of campus life.
This brings me to the holy grail of the
university holiday season: Friendsgiving.
How has this unconventional holiday
become so emblematic of the holiday
season? Is it the potluck dinner of ramen
and instant mashed potatoes? Or, perhaps,
it’s the leftover Halloween candy hiding on
the top shelf, or a trip to South Quad’s taco
bar. Maybe it’s literally just wine.
The beauty of this holiday lies in its
open-endedness. Its flexibility matches our
youthful rejection of tradition, but make
no mistake; its importance does not go
unnoticed.
Together, we inhabit Ann Arbor in
communal states of elongated temporal
existence, ever-avoiding the concept of
impending graduation. This holiday season,
take time to remember this fact not out of
sadness, but for specified appreciation of
its uniqueness.
Look away from your papers and
flashcards and too-long readings to bask
in the ease of finding a night for everyone
to convene in the same place on someone’s
floor — and apologize to the downstairs
neighbors for the noise it might cause.
In this spirit, here are some of the people
I am thankful for:
The friend who reads all my Daily
articles without me telling her I’ve written
them.
The friend who works at Starbucks and
recently brought home an entire carton
of the Strawberry Refresher concentrate
because he knows it’s my favorite drink.
The old roommate who once taped a
stuffed animal to our dorm-room ceiling
while I was asleep because she knew it
would make me laugh in the morning.
The friend that I met in a sleepy English
class who texted me her summer address
last May so we could be old-fashioned pen
pals.
The friend who recently told me to think
of myself as an extra large Mission-line
flour tortilla, whereas my ex-boyfriend is
the small store-brand corn alternative.
The friend who I met while studying at
a different university, but will Facetime me
exactly when she knows I need it the most.
My twin brother, who lives across the
street from me and convinced me to transfer
from a school where I was truly unhappy.
And to everyone else who I continue
to meet far into my college years. To the
friends who may be strangers today but
I might one day call family, all thanks to
this crazy little microcosm of Southeast
Michigan.
ZOE PHILLIPS
Daily Arts Writer
THIRD MAN RECORDS
CONCERT REVIEW
Final papers and finding thanks:
An analysis of ~Friendsgiving~
MADELEINE VIRGINIA GANNON
Daily Arts Writer
COMMUNITY CULTURE NOTEBOOK
COURTESY OF EMMA CHANG