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Friday: Well, we’ve got some good touring news and bad touring news today. Since I’m all getting bad stuff over with, here’s the negative news: the Kings of Convenience tour has been postponed due to Eirik Glambek Bøe’s current bout with a “flu-virus.” Their scheduled performance last night on Jimmy Fallon was canceled, and the tour has been rescheduled for June. Feel better, Eirik!

And now, the good: The National has extended their tour! They’ll kick things off in late April (with one random date in March for a Tennessee show), and will hit cities well into June.

Saturday: I don’t think I’m surprising any of you by saying that I’m not the Tom Brokaw of music news reporting. I mean, who could be? He’s so dreamy. Anyways, sometimes I feel like I’ll get a hot lead on a story; and instead of running to my laptop to write about it, I take a nap or eat an apple.

Once I wake up from said nap or eat that thang down to the core, the news is completely different, and I’m struggling to catch up. That whole big story is meant to lead up to this fact: I thought The Strokes were functionally broken up. And then I see a teaser on Pitchfork that’s all “watch The Strokes record their new LP!” Jigga wha? Yup. They have a fourth album tentatively coming out in September.  I think it’s time to go take a nap and see how this is going to work itself out.

Sunday: I want to call James Cameron and ask how it feels to have a movie that’s been beaten by Valentine’s Day, otherwise known as Clusterfuck of Celebrities Who Need a Quick Paycheck and Love Acting Like They’re In Love! He’ll probably tell me that it feels awesome to be able to say that he’s responsible for the two highest-grossing films of all time while polishing his many awards. Touché, Cameron. Anyway, Valentine’s Day made $66.9 million. Hopefully, that’s enough to keep Ashton Kutcher out of the film industry for a few years. 

Monday: Oh, Record Store Day. You’re almost here! Come April 17, you’ll be able to get loads of special releases from your favorite bands, as per usual. The latest offering? A Beach House EP entitled Zebra. It’s got four songs, two of which are remixes off of Teen Dream, the album that’s currently got all the cool kids swooning.

When it comes to great names in literature, I think Boo Radley from To Kill a Mockingbird ranks as one of my favorites. Which is why, even if they don’t mean to reference that at all, I may have to get behind Admiral Radley. The lineup is composed of former Granddaddy members Jason Lytle and Aaron Burtch and Earlimart members Aaron Espinoza and Ariana Murray. Besides a website and two upcoming shows in Dallas and L.A., not much sonic evidence exists of the band. But for a potential Boo connection, I’ll keep following along.

Tuesday: Have some spare change floating around? Why not make a bid for the London recording complex Abbey Road? EMI is selling it, though no one’s naming a price publicly. That being said, it may cost more than the quarters you find in your sofa cushions, given that everyone from Pink Floyd to Blur recorded albums there. Oh, and also, you may not be allowed to call it Abbey Road. Stop trying to ride the Beatles’ coattails, ya bums!

Wednesday: I love me some Peaches. She’s delightfully raunchy, and if I ever get to see her perform, I will die a happy woman. And I thought all of this before I heard that she was planning on doing a one-woman performance of Jesus Christ Superstar in Berlin. Now, given Berlin’s forward-thinking reputation, I would think that they would welcome Peaches and her rendition. But according to her Twitter, German officials have shut that shit down. What a shame.

Thursday: I think it’s safe to say that Animal Collective is artsy. But thanks to their upcoming exhibition  on March 4 at the Guggenheim Museum, they can now be considered artsy-fartsy. It’ll be a three-hour installation called Transverse Temporal Gyrus, and as a press release states: “will transform the museum into a kinetic, psychedelic  environment,” complete with new AC music, props, projections, and basically anything visual that you can imagine. Between the Tim Burton exhibit at the MoMA and this piece, New York City hipsters must be flipping out—in a very photogenic way, of course.