Monday, November 15, 2004

Aural

When did we stop listening to The Darkness, people? It seems like only this morning I was getting into my car and putting Permission to Land in my portable CD player, which was plugged into a cassette adapter which was in turn inserted into my car's tape deck. And now I have to settle for singing "Love on the Rocks with No Ice," to myself in a sadly unsatisfactory falsetto compared to Justin Hawkins'. Where did we go wrong? Where did our glam revolution go? When did we forget?

ODB died. That's a hell of a thing.

My buddy Summer, one of the most talented damn people in the whole damn world, played a coffee shop gig the other night, and I guess a lot of our mutual friends managed to make it out there. Personally, I'm not all that into the whole "scene" thing, standing venues have never held much appeal for me (I was born 54, it seems) so I didn't end up going. Chilled with the missus. I think Summer understands. We're both pretty elastic when it comes to stuff like this.

Summer is a big chunk of our mutual musical malaise we call "I Killed A Bear." IKAB has played no shows, barely has any reputable practice record under its belt, and yet I am convinced that it is totally awesome. My buddy Jake plays the Irish whistle, which is great in its singularity, and is learning to play his dad's left-handed base which, while lacking in cerdibility, is overflowing in kitsch, for lack of a better word (that isn't "awesome"). Dave's on drums. Summer and I sing and play rhythm and lead, respectively. It's a combolation of many, many talents, and a lot of fun playing with so many talented people. I just enjoy the dynamic of it.

I want to start another band, and will as soon as the opportunity presents itself, only for the opportunity to name it. Jacob turned me on to one of the best band names I've ever heard, and should I ever form that combination, I will definitely dub it just that. Until then, it will have to stew in my little mind, gaining steam pressure and algae, synchronously.

I've been catching "Battle for Ozzfest" on MTV lately... and I must say that I relate to none of these kids. They all have this outward mentality of 'metalmetalmetalmetal,' and I have trouble believing there's nothing else to these people. It just feels front-ish, as so much of the music scene does to me outside of the actual art aspect of it. Too often I find the music industry moves out of art and into sociology. I often find the intent behind the music I hear directly affects my opinion of it, or perhaps more accurately the intent I perceive, and in this age of cross-overs and guest-spots and genre... it's difficult for popular artists to seem as if they're doing anything worthwhile to me.

That being said, I want Ahmad off the damn show. STOP WHINING. ACT PROPERLY.

I went to my Uncle's for the weekend about a week ago, to see my kid cousins and spend some time with ol' Unkie Chris, probably one of my more favorite relatives, and I have this to say: If you'd like to hear nothing but Morrissey for three days, go and see my Uncle. Mind you, I'm not complaining, I could listen to Morrissey for three days. In fact, I think if you're the kind of person who likes Morrissey, it goes hand in hand that you are also the kind of person who could listen to him for three days. Anyway, what struck me was that, during my visit, a package arrived at the house containing The String Quartet's covers of Morrissey songs. So not only was I hearing Morrissey all the time (awesome) I was now hearing Morrissey as dinner music in a completely appropriate manner for dining accompaniment (super-awesome)! Blew my mind.

I've decided to buy the kids a starter guitar kit. Probably for my Uncle too. They have a guitar, but the thing weeps at me whenever I see it and begs me to aid it off this nickel coil, as the pun may be. I'm not sure if it's what the kids would like were they to know their cousin was going to drop a hundred bucks on them... but that's what they're getting. Deal.

Also, I'm adopting a cat. So yeah. Kitten time. Further bulletins as events warrant.

R.I.P O.D.B. B.B.J. Dirt McG.

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