Music Monday: Pretentious, Moi?

When I first heard of Pretentious, Moi?, via last.fm, I really, really wanted to like them. Because there may be no more perfect name for a band in a genre that is perpetually criticized for taking itself too seriously. (Virtually every band I've ever loved has been criticized for taking itself too seriously. I ought to start treating it as a positive thing in reviews.)

Plus, they have fab hair. Seriously, look at this photo (copyright Taya Uddin/Eyexposed Photography). It's like a goth Pantene commercial.



It almost seemed too much to hope for that the music would live up to the image, but it does. If you like the idea of hooky, danceable goth pop that manages to have a distinctly old school feel without coming across like a Sisters of Mercy clone*, you should check this out.

Here is the band performing "Living Dead and Undecided" live:

* Yes, the first Sisters album was titled First and Last and Always. A great many bands seem to have taken that a shade too literally.

Conversations We Didn't Have in Skyrim, Part 13

Previous installments under skyrim-conversations.

You have no idea how difficult it is to extract yourself from a freezing ocean when you've dropped your game controller because you are laughing too hard.

I'm not the first to observe this, but I was really surprised that Skyrim lacks any kind of mechanic for hypothermia. I spent quite a bit of time in the game assiduously avoiding getting wet when temperatures were below freezing, only to discover that there wasn't any point.

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So, I'm really not sure how Farkas is going to take the news that Kodlak's ghost has proclaimed me the new Harbinger of the Companions. Especially since we haven't had a chance to discuss the Frostbite Spider Incident yet. I'd rather have cleared the air on that before telling Farkas that I'm his new boss, but the pace of events didn't allow for that.

He seems to take it well. "Hey, I always do what you tell me to, anyway. So that's fine."

He doesn't always do what I tell him to. Not remotely. But at the moment, the profession of loyalty means more than strict accuracy.

"Thanks." I look around. We're standing outside Ysgramor's Tomb, on this little island up in the middle of a frozen sea. "So, hey, there's this nice little barrow not far from here. Got a magic sword in it or something. You wanna go, poke around, whack some draugr?"

He shakes his head slowly. "Nah. That's okay. I think I'm going to just...look around for a bit. I'll see you back in Whiterun."
( continued below the cut )