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