The Color Pharmacy is a three-piece band from Minneapolis and consists of Jake Dilley, Dan Larsen and Jake Quam. This self-titled release is the indie rock group’s second studio album, following 2011’s “Texatonka.”

The 10-track album is what I would describe as guitar-based, catchy, rock-esque fun.
It would be especially fantastic for driving on back roads on a sunny day when you’re in a “thinking too much about life” mood. I could also see most of the songs being great for movie montages, but in the least cheesy way possible.

There was absolutely nothing I disliked about it. I’m not sure, however, that it would immediately catch my attention if I happened to hear it somewhere. I found I wasn’t all that impressed on first listen, but after several days of playing it as background music, songs stuck in my head, lyrics popped out at me and I liked it considerably better.

I had trouble listening to the entire album, but not in a bad way. It was only because I got hung up on the fifth track, titled “Five.” The song is sort of a comically sad twist on a relationship that’s not going well. Dilley laments the way things are going and how he’s not the person he should have been. But, as he says, “I wish I knew you when I was 5,” because he, and life, were so much more simple then, and maybe he and his romantic partner would have been better too.

Lines like “I wasn’t invited to your Ninja Turtle birthday party” make me laugh, but the song overall is actually pretty sad. I enjoyed the conflict of emotions there, and after listening to just that song probably 16 times in a row, I can definitively say it was my favorite from the album.

My other favorite was “The Doses,” another sad track near the end of the album. The sparse instrumentation and vocal harmonies gave the whole song a feeling of melancholy, even without really knowing what it was about. I thought the most thought provoking line was, “I’ve been in photographs with folks I’ll never see again.” There is also a part of the track in which Dilley sings about the beat of his heart, and the drums become much more prevalent for a few seconds, which is a nice aesthetic touch.

Several points in the album were like that — where everything from the lyrics to the music to the way Dilley’s voice sounded connected and made the song complete.

“The Color Pharmacy” is an album you may think you know, and yet have never heard before. It houses a portfolio of songs with silvery choruses written with beautiful surgical precision,” as described by Youa Vang of City Pages Blog.

I couldn’t help but agree with that analysis. “The Color Pharmacy” is familiar, and yet different. It was enough to get me interested in checking out the band’s other music, and I recommended it to a few friends with more refined tastes. I’m not sure it’s an album for everyone, but I think there is definitely something about this band’s music that intrigues me and makes me think I should keep an eye on these musicians in the future.

As a sophomore, I’ve only attended Friday Night Live a total of three times. But I must say, last Friday’s installment was the funniest I’ve seen — by far.

To be honest, I wasn’t exactly pumped to go to FNL this semester. A: I’d have to take notes during the show in order to write this review, and B: The quality of the previous two shows I had watched was only decent.

Needless to say, this semester’s FNL exceeded my expectations, and then some.

Hosts Brad Draper (sr) and Becca Ebenhoch (sr) led off with the obligatory banter, this time about the new dance class at Indiana Wesleyan University. One of the jokes was a jab at The Sojourn’s lack of readership from Ebenhoch, which wasn’t the best start for her if she were looking for a favorable review from me. Looking back at it, the joke undermined the whole show and singlehandedly made this semester’s FNL terri — just kidding. It was all in good fun, and no harm was intended at all.

The opening interchange between Draper and Ebenhoch was solid, but it wasn’t until the end of the opening musical medley that I knew this FNL was going to be special. With the song “Thrift Shop,” by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis playing, beloved professor Wilbur Williams strutted out onto the stage with a full-length white fur coat. It was epic and a genius move by the FNL staff to get Williams involved in the evening as a live performer.

After that, the evening just got better and better, aside from one act near the beginning, which featured Josiah Kaufman (jr) as Dave in “Hot Wassail” Kaufman and the other cast members performed well, but the entire act’s comedic value was based solely on alliteration, which is very cliché. The writers were creative for the rest of the night’s scripts, but “Hot Wassail” missed the mark.

On a more positive note, one of the best acts of the night came soon after. It was set in a grocery store and involved two couples: one with a child at IWU and the other with a child at Taylor University. Graham McClanahan’s (fr) performance as the father of the Taylor student earned the honor of my favorite performance of the night. He was just so weird, and he mastered a voice that reminded me of the curly-haired, asthmatic Carl Wheezer from “The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius,” a popular Nickelodeon TV show circa 2002.

Two of McClanahan’s memorable lines from the skit were “Well, I’m lactating,” and, “You know what they say about holidays: You celebrate one of ‘em, you celebrate all of ‘em.” Both lines were met with thunderous laughter from the crowd that forced the other cast members to wait a few seconds before continuing.

FNL veteran Lauren Melser (sr), who played the mother of the IWU student, was also great in the skit. She comically made fun of Taylor’s optional chapel policy, calling it “kind of pagan.”

“Squirrel Dynasty,” a parody of the A&E Network TV show “Duck Dynasty,” was also great. It starred McClanahan, Joshua Larson (jr) and Draper. Once again, McClanahan stole the show with his spot-on “hick” accent.

Then came the guest band, “Trouper.” I had mixed feelings about its performance. On one hand, I absolutely loved its musical style, which was an Imogen Heap-esque folk-electronic vibe that was very ethereal. On the other hand, I had been laughing so hard from the skits that I almost would have preferred a brighter and more energetic band for an FNL performance. I still enjoyed “Trouper,” even though the music felt somewhat out of place with the rest of the evening.

The second half of the night started off with a bang, featuring a “Harlem Shake” video of IWU faculty, once again starring Wilbur Williams. If there were one fad I hoped the FNL cast would capitalize on this time around, it was the “Harlem Shake.” They didn’t let me down.

“Facebook Poetry” by Kyle Davidson (jr) was amusing, as always. In addition to his trademark “little black heart” line and shouting of words written in all caps, I loved that he added some entertaining new voices to his repertoire. My favorite was a soft, delicate one that made a slight whistle every time he sounded out the letter “s.” Davidson has carried the past couple of FNLs with his fantastic performances, but this semester, he had a lot more help from the rest of the cast.

The entire second half was at least somewhat funny, but the humor at the end of the “Society of World Changers” skit seemed a little bit cheap. The revenge of the globe? Not the writers’ best efforts. I did enjoy the skit as a whole, however. The witty conversations between the busts were highly entertaining.

For all the great performances, my highlight of the night was the second-to-last act, a horror film about the recently closed Shatford House, in which Lindsey Griggs (so) and Natalie Theriot (fr) tried to explore the supposedly vacant dorm. Instead, they found that people still lived in Shatford, led by creepy Resident Director Caitlin Newell (sr). The effects were stellar, including a picture that had a moving face. I had to remind myself in the middle of the video that I wasn’t watching an authentic horror movie.

Ah yes, and then there was the icing on the cake at the end of the night: an engagement. Draper and Ebenhoch pretended to be playing a game involving audience participation and blindfolds, but the game was secretly setting up a proposal between Jason Tarnow (alumnus ‘12) and Lauren Jones (jr). I personally thought it was a unique venue for a proposal, but still very romantic and entertaining for the audience. It also helped alleviate the inevitable awkwardness that comes when the hosts have to wrap up the show. Congratulations, Jason and Lauren!

This semester’s FNL finally showed me why it is such a time-honored tradition here at IWU. I hope the writers continue to work hard to produce quality humor and that Wilbur Williams continues to make cameo appearances in the show as long as I am a student here.

“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad, and I’m still trying to figure out how could that be.”

If the film version of “The Perks of Being a Wallflower” had to be summed up in a simple sentence or two, this quote from the protagonist, Charlie, would be the perfect choice. This movie is about capturing a feeling, but it isn’t simple.

It’s about capturing an era in life — a time of teenage confusion when everything is somehow simultaneously happy and sad and exciting and depressing and as dramatic as possible. And by the end, it’s still not figured out. But it’s still life, for better or worse.

This 2012 indie film tells the story of high school freshman Charlie, played by Logan Lerman. He’s an outsider, and his first days of high school are rough, to say the least. He connects with step-siblings Patrick and Sam, played by the fantastic Ezra Miller and the fresh-from-”Harry-Potter” fame Emma Watson. Their group of “misfit” friends accepts the newcomer with open arms, even though all are seniors and longtime companions. With them, Charlie experiences the angst of being a teenager and learns about how to “participate in life.”

Maybe that sounds like your typical, clichéd teenage movie, and maybe at moments it was. However, this movie overall made me feel like I was re-experiencing my high school years.

John Anderson of Newsday had a similar impression. “High school — and the teen years in general — is a series of minor tragedies, small epiphanies, brushes with joy, skirmishes with pain, all adding up to something delightfully awful, and delightful to be done with. The film makes all that make perfect sense in a way very few movies in its genre do,” wrote Anderson.

“Wallflower” is based on a 1999 young adult novel by Steven Chbosky. Interestingly enough, he wrote the screenplay and directed the movie. I have not read the book, but I do know that Chbosky had his work cut out for him. The novel is formated in letters, written by Charlie to an anonymous person who is helping him cope with life after his best friend commits suicide. That must have been tough to translate into a movie, but the film makes good use of the letter writing as a way to see what’s going on in Charlie’s mind. All the important details from the book remained, though some plot lines were cut out or lessened.

I give major props to Chbosky — for his first real film, this is impressive. It defies what you expect of the story without trying too hard. It has big-name actors and actresses in it, but they don’t overshadow the story. It has depth and darkness, yet I still walked away with a sense of hope.

“Wallflower” is a movie with something to say, not just about high school, but life in general. It’s about love and how we don’t know how to handle it. It’s about life and how to live it. It’s about taking each moment as it comes and appreciating it for what it is. It’s about knowing that you’re never going to have it all figured out, and it’s never going to be perfect, but that’s OK.

I think that was actually one of my favorite things about it — it didn’t necessarily feel like an ending as the movie concludes. It felt like a pause in the characters’ lives. Charlie’s end monologue acknowledges that he has a lot to work out, but it also acknowledges that these moments will pass.

“I know these will be stories someday. And our pictures will become old photographs. We’ll all become somebody’s mom or dad. But right now these moments are not stories. This is happening. … This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story, … and in this moment I swear, we are infinite,” he says.

“Wallflower” doesn’t state a lot of things outright for audiences. It expects them to pay attention because so much of what happens is never actually said or shown. Even the major plot twist is portrayed with little more than sparse flashbacks and implications, but Chbosky expects his audience to be smart enough to figure it out. I, for one, appreciated that the story demanded more from me than just a passive viewing.

The book was written in the ’90s, and the movie is clearly placed there as well, but very few specifics are given. You never know exactly where or when this is taking place, which makes you feel more like a part of the story. We were all there: freshman year, terrified on the inside, confused, alone, and yet somehow hopeful, probably because we didn’t know any better.

Might I add: the soundtrack for the movie is amazing. Music is a huge part of the lives of the characters, and the life of the movie itself. Mix tapes are prominently used throughout the film as characters’ ways of showing affection. And yes, actual cassette tapes. It was endearing.

It’s not a movie for everyone — “Wallflower” deals with some really serious issues like drugs, sexual abuse, homosexuality and depression, though it does so tastefully. It requires you to stop and think and actually feel something.

Of course, it has some problems. My biggest issue with it was some of the storylines, particularly in dealing with the letter-writing and the best friend’s suicide, were not fleshed out as well as they could have been. Viewers also don’t really get a good grip on any of the flashback sequences until the very end scenes, which can be frustrating. And Emma Watson’s American accent struggled at times.

Still, I would agree with the San Francisco Chronicle’s Amy Biancolli when she said: “But somehow, these imperfections fit. Somehow, ‘The Perks of Being a Wallflower’ shouldn’t be flawless. It should be cracked and riddled with human frailty. It should hurt.”

And it does hurt, if you let it. But somehow, that’s the beauty in it all.

Hi. My name is Jared, and I am secure enough in my manhood to say I am now officially a fan of Justin Bieber’s music. His Jan. 29 release “Believe Acoustic” sealed the deal for me.

The album includes 11 tracks: Eight are toned-down guitar or piano renditions of songs from last summer’s “Believe,” and three are new, also of the acoustic persuasion. What’s the best part of the album? None of the tracks feature auto-tune, club beats or dubstep.

While this isn’t soon-to-be 19-year-old Bieber’s first acoustic album (he released “My World’s Acoustic” in 2011), it is certainly his most stripped-down. The musical style harkens back to his YouTube days. Before the record deals and the worldwide fame, he posted videos that included nothing but his prepubescent singing voice and an acoustic guitar. I found “Believe Acoustic” incredibly refreshing. However, the album left me wondering why he’s spent his whole career avoiding this style of music like the plague.

To put it bluntly, I hated Bieber’s original “Believe” album. It was gaudy pop, complete with breathy, seductive rap in “Boyfriend.” There was also trite dubstep in “As Long As You Love Me” and suggestive dance tunes like “Beauty and a Beat.”

A voice as good as Bieber’s deserves better than to be confined to the dance club, but that’s what “Believe” did to him.

Pretty much across the board, all the renditions on “Believe Acoustic” were better than the originals. Without the electronic effects to detract from the vocals, Bieber’s now fully changed voice shines through and complements the guitar or piano (depending on the song) perfectly.

My favorite acoustic rendition was “As Long As You Love Me.” The tune starts chill with Bieber’s vulnerable voice and a slow guitar rhythm until the pre-chorus. At that point, the tempo increases and a palm-muted guitar comes in with a pulsating strumming pattern that builds intensity into the chorus. Bieber nails all the notes perfectly and adds a little flair by changing up the original melody a few times.

Two other renditions I especially liked were “All Around The World” and “She Don’t Like the Lights.” Each features a guitar that clicks the rhythm so quickly that you almost forget that there aren’t any percussive instruments in the song. Bieber even turns “Boyfriend,” one of my least favorite songs ever, into a halfway decent song.

“Be Alright” is the only acoustic remix not more impressive than its predecessor. The original was already totally guitar-based, but “Believe Acoustic” makes it a bit calmer by using a piano instead of a guitar; I preferred the original guitar version.

There were also three new tracks: “Yellow Raincoat,” “I Would” and “Nothing Like Us.”

“Yellow Raincoat” was the lowlight of the album. Bieber’s vocals are good, as always, but the melody is repetitive and too melancholy. “I Would” is a solid effort, but “Nothing Like Us” is the best song on the album. A piano serenades Bieber as he tries to persuade his ex-girlfriend to come back to him (Selena Gomez?). The beautiful melody brings out the best in Bieber’s voice.

To all the Bieber haters, if you are still with me, you may have thought it was creepy how he sounded like a girl until a couple of years ago (I know I did.) And you may not like that he seems determined to be the prettiest pretty boy on Earth (guilty, again), but you have to respect the talent. The Biebs has a killer voice. Period.