The great thing about personal blogging is that you don't have to worry about repeating yourself or making a post relevant to anything in particular.

Photo courtesy of A. Roberts (from the show at Austin City Limits)

So in that spirit, let's get down to brass tacks: Jenny Lewis is the closest thing to a deity in my life. I saw her at the Apollo Theater in Harlem tonight, and, as always, she was even better--her voice even stronger, her outfit even more defiantly appealing, her bangs even fiercer (if that's at all possible)--than the last time.

I wrote a cursory review of Acid Tongue for Idolator when the album leaked on MySpace, but since then my affection for it has grown considerably. It's such a hefty, lovable album. But anyway, if you really want to know what I think about specifics read the post.

Right as the show was starting tonight I felt an intense surge of something akin to nostalgia, but not quite as specific. It was as if the ghost of friendship had drifted through my body and I suddenly felt towards Jenny Lewis (that is, the music, the image, the experience of her...not the woman herself because I don't know her, though I totally did give her candy that one time, remember?) the same way I feel towards my closest, dearest friend Allie Roberts.

In 9th grade Allie wore converse and Dickies almost every day and we both had and often wore the same ugly ass Green Day shirt. Nowadays Allie wears plastic jewelry and loves antique shopping, and yet we're just as close as we were back in those halcyon days of pop punk fandom.

Certain close friendships have an almost undefinable quality of durability, and I think the same goes for particular bands or musicians. I don't think there's any bond as strong as the one formed between two friends in the shitstorm of adolescence. If a friendship can make it through the countless arguments, petty drama, and seemingly unforgivable conduct of the high school years then you know it's been forged in the fires of Hell and is nearly indestructible.

With Rilo Kiley Jenny Lewis reached me in much the same way as a good teenage friendship, and for that reason I don't think I'll ever stop loving her. She's like a superhero to me--the perfect lady. She wears whatever the fuck she wants (tonight, for example, it was a very Dolly Partonesque denim high-waisted jumper type deal, and yes, she looked stunning), has awesome bangs and long, beautiful hair, writes amazing music which she sings impeccably, and has an adorable boyfriend. She's basically sex personified and I don't think anyone who's seen her perform live could disagree.


I love her even despite her stupid fucking hat and ridiculous denim jumper.

I wish there was a video on YouTube of her singing "The Next Messiah" because I don't think I've ever seen such a pleasing spectacle as that song performed live: the writhing, the dancing, the wailing, the jamming dood.

Fittingly enough the only person I know who loves Jenny Lewis as much as--if not more than--I do is Allie. For two people so close for so long we actually don't have many common interests, but Jenny Lewis is certainly one of them (that and the movie Heavyweights).

All I know is that she's either the most sincere musician/performer around today, or she's the best faker in the biz. But I give her the benefit of the doubt, of course, as you always do with old friends.

Bonus: