Thank You.

Hey, little people...

Here's a song I recorded for everybody who came to see us on tour with the Kaiser Chiefs. Thanks!

Shootingstar.mp3

Do What You Want, Buy What We Say

OK Go's just released a 3-song single called Do What You Want. T'other two songs are "Invincible" and a cover of "The Lovecats" by The Cure. It's sooooo not bad.
Buy it at the iTunes Store, Amazon.com, and a host of other places. You can also listen to two of the songs, for free, at okgo.net and myspace.com/okgo page.

Chapter Forty-Six: Scared Merdeless

Tim and I had a pretty classic commute today, on our way to a meeting with the wonderful people at Yahoo! Music. Tim was driving, which is an adventure all by itself. We were preparing to make a perfectly legal left turn, when out of the bleu comes a crazy French guy on a motorcycle. I can't describe how ridiculous this guy looked... sort of like Zaphod Beeblebrox doing an impression of DJ Qualls, while charging at us at full speed, clearly ignoring the red traffic light that's begging him to stop.

When he finally does see the light, the bastard stops short, leaving us in the middle of the intersection with opposing lanes of traffic barreling down on us at high rates of speed. Tim, bless his heart, was able to back out of the intersection and into the left turn lane with just moments to spare. We sat and we cursed. A lot. It's always fun to curse with Tim, because he does it in perfect high-pitched harmony, just like he sings.

With our light turned green, we were now forced to pass crazy motorcycle guy, for whom I was busily working up my best two-hands-in-the-air, "what the fuck was that?" move, until I noticed him waving at us with a stupid grin on his face. The only reaction my reptilian brain could muster was a middle finger extended in his direction. Remember: Giving in to road rage is always a bad idea.

In a split second the crazy man had u-turned, and was now screaming through my window at me. I couldn't make out every word, but his basic point was this: "Zye tweye to apowogize and zyou give me ze fingeh!!"

I told Tim to step on it, and we took off, weaving through the streets of Hollywood with a crazy biker on our tail. At every traffic light, he would pull up parallel to us, point to the side of the road and scream "Zye don't zyou pull ovah and let me zhow you a fingah!!!"

Which part of this interaction is most ridiculous?
a. That he was ready to throw down after receiving the (well-deserved) bird.
b. That he actually believed Baldy and Shrimpy Dandy Suit would brawl on the side of the road with him.
c. That he used "let me show you a finger" as a threat.
d. The post-facto blogging of it.

Finally, he caught up to us at a light, left his bike in the middle of the road and walked up to the car. He bent down and rested his arms on the bottom of Tim's open window while leaning his head into the car to give Tim a not-too-subtle warning: "Zyou bettah tell zyour fwiend he should be careful where he puts his fingahs!!" In a stroke of genius, frustration and fear, Tim turned to our assailant, looked him in the eye, and, at the top of his lungs, yelled "WE'RE LATE FOR A MEETING!" before flooring it to freedom.

In retrospect, I'm really happy all this happened.

Speaking of (possibly) French people, last week we filmed the video for "Do What You Want" with a definitely French person, Olivier Gondry, who's done videos for the Vines, Hot Hot Heat, The Stills, and many more. He used a super-cool camera setup to possibly create Matrix-esque spins and pans. Here's a picture I took with my phone:




Love,
Rusty

A Choreographer's Tale (Final Chapter)

Photo stolen from someone named kris_la at livejournal. Sorry, kris!

OK Go has spent the last few weeks creating and perfecting a new end-of-set dance, which they created with the help of an internationally known choreographer. We've asked her to share her process, and to analyze the dance's deep meaning with you...

Friday.

We insert the Charlie's Angels reference as a sly foreshadowing of the violent renaissance which will bear down on the Men as the dance rushes achingly toward breathless, shuddering climax. The Junior Varsity Sequence—which finds the Men united in punctilious pep-rally puerility—begs the question: If the world is a locker room, is Tim its forgotten gym sock?

The answer, of course, can be gleaned by watching and re-watching the Dance's vertiginous, apical glissade which unfurls thus: 4-Cylinder-Piston machinations... a pugilistic hand-to-hand combat scene, including slo-mo special effects... The Reunification... The Hula... The Almighty Jazz Box, enhanced with axes-for-hands arm stylings... And finally, the SupernalSoaringSteepleTim, Lord of All He Surveys.

We gaped. We gasped. Could it really be? Yes. YES! The Dance was finito. And infinito. I was awash with primal joy, and ready to scuttle. But before I withdrawing into the night, I bestowed a Tribal Name upon each valiant Man of OK Go, a well-earned reward for a week of spiritual germination, physical fortitude, and meticulous mind-body exertion. These choreographic crusaders shall henceforth be known as Leaping Woodland Elf (Damian), Ape Who Eats Ants Off Stick (Andy), Massive Mastiff (Dan), and Fifi, The Fleet Fetal Rooster (Tim).

And now, nimble as a Timberwolf I go. May we meet again.

--Trish

Comment, Baby. I Am Not Afraid.

Here's what's called an open thread. Post comments about whatever you like, OK Go-related or otherwise. I care not. It's just an experiment. It's also an invitation, I guess, to those of you with something to say, but no blog to say it in. And also to those of you who are too lazy (or scared) to visit the OK Go Bulletin Board.

Audioblog: Los Angeles & San Diego

If you're going to the Los Angeles or San Diego shows, one of these messages is for YOU:

Los Angeles
Real Audio
Windows Media

San Diego
Real Audio
Windows Media

Audioblog: Santa Ana

If you're going to the Santa Ana, CA show, this message is for YOU:
Real Audio
Windows Media

Chapter Forty-Five: My Dogs Is Barkin'

A few weeks ago, I picked up a new pair of shoes. They may be the most beautiful shoes ever, but they're also the least comfortable. Especially after jumping around stage in them every single night. There's nothing rock 'n roll about sore feet at the end of the day. It was starting to bring me down.

So today we picked up those gel-style in-soles (I'm pretty sure they're the ones from those unbearable commercials that feature ultra-groomed actors dropping awful quips like "gellin' like a fellon" in guiltless succession. The fact that these ads are so self-aware of their own irony sme want to hit the TV with a hammer, but I have to say I do enjoy that confident little -- note: very subtle -- nod of the head before the actor/actress delivers some galactically retarded line resembling "like Magellan, I'm gellin'.") Of course, all of this ranting is just a big excuse to show you the following photograph:



Love,

Rusty

Audioblog: Oakland

If you're going to the Oakland, CA show, this message is for YOU:
Real Audio
Windows Media

Audioblog: Portland

If you're going to the Portland, OR show, this message is for YOU:
Real Audio
Windows Media

Chapter Forty-Four: Into The Wild

Do you know how far Seattle is from Minneapolis? FAR. Do you know what's in between Seattle and Minneapolis? VERY LITTLE*. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. South Dakota, Wyoming and Montana offered us some gorgeous scenery. Throw in a guy with a video camera and you've got tasty footage of us being OK Go in front of scenic vistas. This may all sound very Midnight Oil-ish, but don't worry. It will soon become astonishingly clear.

Please enjoy this picture of Tim and I playing catch. I love Tim's stance... He's so READY!


*Editor's Note From Jorge: Please accept my apologies. Rusty is a coast-ist jerk.

A Choreographer's Tale (Part 4)

Photo borrowed from Michele

OK Go has spent the last few weeks creating and perfecting a new end-of-set dance, which they created with the help of an internationally known choreographer. We've asked her to share her experiences with you...

Wednesday.

I woke with the dawn and joined my Timberwolf Spirit Guide in baying to the morning sun. I was rewarded with a moment of clarity and beauty... I knew then and there that the toxic venom of the Toss-the-Tim section of the dance was destined to dissolve into a moment of triumph and victory over betrayal and brutishness. It would come in the form of a patented move I call "ManFaith Triumvirate (Proud Mountain In Back)."

From here, the intricate and fragile latticework of a delicate story long in the making would be unveiled, layer by layer. Damian and Andy lay down their sharp-edged spite at the altar of peace, each taking the other gently in a healing embrace and together they trace the ephemeral outlines of a world without pain. Eventually, though, Damian and Andy are wrenched apart from within, casting about for their own distant stars, leaving a dark void from which erupts none other than he they call TIM THE TIGER.

At this moment, I collapsed under the weight of my visions and the force of my insights. "Thank you, Timberwolf," I whispered before my spirit left my body.

--Trish

Audioblog: Vancouver

If you're going to the Vancouver show, this message is for YOU:
Real Audio
Windows Media

Audioblog: Seattle

If you're going to the Seattle show, this message is for YOU:
Real Audio
Windows Media

A Choreographer's Tale (Part 3)

Photo courtesy of Lisa Young

OK Go has spent the last few weeks creating and perfecting a new end-of-set dance, which they created with the help of an internationally known choreographer. We've asked her to share her experiences with you...

Tuesday.

Yesterday's work had been to pay brooding homage to Rhythm Nation, the ruthlessness of technology, and the dark face of military prowess everywhere. But from that forlorn moonscape, the Men were now borne aloft to ride a vector of freedom and rebirth, gathering momentum in the frolicsome Greek Wedding/Mariachi sequence and culminating in the menstrual birth-blossoming of Tim. Oh, the jubilation of it! Yet the merriment is short-lived. Sadly, every cherry has a stone for a heart, and, as the Earth spins, we plummet, spiraling angrily into the Westside Story Cluster, the Disco Fault Line, and Toss-The-Tim, an uncharted, bare-back DanceRide through every man's struggle with the blind-folding of youthful innocence and the harsh realities of tooth decay.

I was just getting started! I had spent hours with my Jane Fonda gorilla meditation the night before, and I had so much LoveKnowledge to share! So many lush spiritual campagnas to explore! But the boys were spent. I could see it in their twisted limbs and haunted eyes. Tomorrow is another day, I told myself, as they rested like kittens by the fire.

--Trish