The Axiom of Choice
Please note: MP3s are only kept online for a short time, and if this entry is from more than a couple of weeks ago, the music probably won't be available to download any more.


My dear misguided readers, never before have we been in more desperate need of a serious chat. I've started a fire here, opened a bottle of Shiraz. Come sit by me. Do you like dark chocolate? I hope seventy percent cocoa isn't too bitter for you. Because if it is, you're not going to like my one-hundred percent bitter attitude. Where did we go wrong? From what great heights and to what terrible depths have we fallen? I still think you're sexy. Very sexy. Almost too much so to bear, really. And I know there was a time - don't you dare deny it - when you felt the same way about me. I'd suspected for the last little while that you might be losing interest (I even briefly entertained the absurd notion that you had started reading Sean's or Dan's posts). But nothing could have prepared me for the blow you dealt me in the comments section of Sean's November 24th post.

Sean wrote something about fishing or love or something false about Joanna Newsom or whatever - I didn't read it (at least I'm still faithful to myself) - but the first comment had nothing to do with the post's content, instead focusing on its effect. The commenter, one L, wrote something so obscene that I hesitate to quote it here: "Note to boys reading STG: Memorize this stuff - surefire way to get into a girl's pants. mmmmm I'm all tingly." This pornographic imperative disturbed me, and I can tell you from having subsequently "memorize[d] this stuff," that it's not true. Mere moments later, Danica, another commenter, added that she had had a "makeout dream" about our very own Dan Beirne. Well, I thought, now it is my turn. I waited, refreshing my screen every thirty seconds, sure that the comments box would fill up with lurid anecdotes about Himelfarb-related sexual fantasies, as well as phone numbers and salacious propositions. (I know I still become aroused every time I reread one of my posts.) But it never happened. You hurt me deeply and I sobbed until morning. I decided that maybe Danica had actually dreamt about me and simply misidentified me as Dan, but this made me feel only slightly better.

So now I have to win you back, my babies. Let's consider this post the beginning of a slow seduction. And what better way to begin than with a man whose sex appeal not even the most frigid among you will deny: the late, great Wilson Pickett.

Wilson Pickett - "Hello Sunshine"

Since I can't bring each and every one of you breakfast in bed like I'd like to do, I'm doing the next best thing to help you start your day off right. Are the short days and the increasingly cold weather starting to get you down? How about the fact that you're fundamentally alone? Well, "Hello Sunshine" is like a dangerously large dose of Xanax. I heard it for the first time last week and I've been in a psychotically good mood ever since. How Pickett's honey-thick vocal, the boisterous Southern horn stabs, and that fucking sinister piano lock into such an awfully deep groove, I will never know, but I do know that I just laughed my way through Babel, which I guess is supposed to be a bleak movie - such is the mood-altering capacity of "Hello Sunshine."



Hey guys. You're looking really good. Such sensual features. And so smart too. You're like the young Hannah Arendt of readerships.


Forest City Lovers - "Song For Morrie"

I worry sometimes that you think I'm too goofy to be sexy. But it's not like that. In fact, of the three bad StG dudes, I probably like the least goofy music (I'm also the tallest, have the best defined abs, etc., etc.). Case in point: this small, tender song about the death of a loved one. I'm not afraid to talk to you about how much it all makes me feel: the wonderfully restrained lead guitar part, the miniature keyboard solo, the gravity of the bass drum and the lightness of the vocal playing tug of war with...

You see?


Posted by Jordan at November 29, 2006 4:28 AM

Well done, Jordan! Don't feel too bad, the mothers all adore you. Grandmothers, too! :)

Posted by Moominmamma at November 29, 2006 9:29 AM

You're *such* a nice boy. I bet your room is tidy too.

Posted by Constihill at November 29, 2006 10:59 AM

with that bottle of shiraz by the fireplace, you're sounding pretty sexy to me!

there you go, happy?

Posted by nas at November 29, 2006 12:02 PM

i masquerade about town as you all the time, and i get all kinds of sweet action.

Posted by talbot yancy at November 29, 2006 1:05 PM

We have the same name. Sexy.
Also sexy: Wilson Pickett. In every way.

Posted by Jordan at November 29, 2006 1:15 PM

Have you considered that Danica my be Dan's feminine alter-ego or a character in Dan's psyche intending to pitch and promote Dan's sexual appeal?
... I do adore Hannah A.

Posted by Elfie at November 29, 2006 1:46 PM


Posted by danica at November 29, 2006 2:29 PM

I always look forward to your posts, Jordan, so don't feel bad! One of my favourite songs is "Don't Go Out Tonight", in which I think you were doing the vocals/ guitar, and you tend to post decent enough songs.

Wouldn't that be better than being called sexy?

Posted by J.S. at November 29, 2006 3:52 PM

Isn't it all about the music*, anyways?

Anyone claiming otherwise is just trying to get into your pants**.

*unless music has become synonymous with lovemaking. Then you may have a problem.

**or maybe I mean "trying to get into your headphones/speakers"...if lovemaking has become synonymous with music

Irregardless of everything: StG is sexy hotpants

Posted by Sean M at November 29, 2006 10:21 PM

Can one be irregardless?

Posted by danica at November 29, 2006 10:42 PM

I thought all us mp3 blog folk received adoring fan letters telling us how sexy we are?

Good move with the Wicked Pickett, it is sure to change your fortune.

I'll pass a little tip on to you, I would have chosen a 90% Baratti and Milano. Although high in cocoa, is is surprisingly smooth...sort of like Pickett.

Posted by jay at November 30, 2006 2:52 AM

Jordan, Sweet Jordan,

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

*I delight in your enthusiasm for words and music
*I admire your musical savy
*I adore the wonderful strangeness that is you

and if all that makes me wriggle on my chair and cross my legs because I am's still pretty good, right?

Posted by L at November 30, 2006 3:32 AM

Jury of 12 - I thank you for restoring my faith in my own sexiness (or something just less than sexiness, perhaps). Let's rent The Dirty Dozen and see what happens.

Posted by Jordan at November 30, 2006 5:05 PM

Rest assured, I have always found you the sexiest blogger on STG.

Posted by Grace at December 1, 2006 12:19 AM

i'm mad for all of you, really.

i wish you would read your blog posts to me before i go to sleep at night.

Posted by Amber at December 2, 2006 1:37 PM

The Wilson Pickett does it, my friend. Not to mention the roaring fire and the wine. But I hope you're prepared for the life of a music blogger/sex symbol/person who is in no way "goofy". Remember: with great power comes great responsibility. Or something like that.

Posted by Jessie at December 2, 2006 7:50 PM

so for me, this was a stg bday post...and the best one at that. wilson pickett is sexy and so are you jordan. you can wake me up anytime with this song...

Posted by k at December 6, 2006 5:17 PM

i accidentally had a naughty daydream about you after reading this post. b/c theres nothing sexier than a funny boy who likes good music and occassionally needs a bit of reassuring.

Posted by lrig at December 7, 2006 2:27 PM

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about the authors
Sean Michaels is the founder of Said the Gramophone. He is a writer, critic and author of the theremin novel Us Conductors. Follow him on Twitter or reach him by email here. Click here to browse his posts.

Emma Healey writes poems and essays in Toronto. She joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. This is her website and email her here.

Jeff Miller is a Montreal-based writer and zinemaker. He is the author of Ghost Pine: All Stories True and a bunch of other stories. He joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. Say hello on Twitter or email.

Mitz Takahashi is originally from Osaka, Japan who now lives and works as a furniture designer/maker in Montreal. English is not his first language so please forgive his glamour grammar mistakes. He is trying. He joined Said the Gramophone in 2015. Reach him by email here.

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Dan Beirne wrote regularly for Said the Gramophone from August 2004 to December 2014. He is an actor and writer living in Toronto. Any claim he makes about his life on here is probably untrue. Click here to browse his posts. Email him here.

Jordan Himelfarb wrote for Said the Gramophone from November 2004 to March 2012. He lives in Toronto. He is an opinion editor at the Toronto Star. Click here to browse his posts. Email him here.
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our favourite blogs
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Back to the World
La Blogothèque
Weird Canada
Destination: Out
Endless Banquet
A Grammar (Nitsuh Abebe)
Ill Doctrine
A London Salmagundi
Words and Music
Petites planétes
Gorilla vs Bear
Silent Shout
Clouds of Evil
The Dolby Apposition
Awesome Tapes from Africa
Matana Roberts
Pitchfork Reviews Reviews
i like you [podcast]
Nicola Meighan
radiolab [podcast]
CKUT Music
plethoric pundrigrions
Wattled Smoky Honeyeater
The Clear-Minded Creative
Torture Garden
Passion of the Weiss
Juan and Only
Horses Think
White Hotel
Then Play Long (Marcello Carlin)
Uno Moralez
Coming Up For Air (Matt Forsythe)
my love for you is a stampede of horses
It's Nice That
Song, by Toad
In Focus
WTF [podcast]
The Rest is Noise (Alex Ross)
My Daguerreotype Boyfriend
The Hood Internet

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st-viateur bagel
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drawn + quarterly
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casa + sala + the hotel
blue skies turn black
montreal improv theatre
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Cult Montreal
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