“When ever I am alone or feeling lonely I pretend I can play the drums inside my head… I am alone only half of the time and the other half I am only hiding.” – “Legit Tattoo Gun” – The Front Bottoms
Words fail when expressing why music resonates. My initial attraction to The Front Bottoms was due to the vocalist’s similarities to the lead vocalist in The Thermals. The Thermals sound is more traditionally punk than The Front Bottoms, but the sincerity in the lyrics crosses the differences in sound.
There’s a thread that runs between The Front Bottoms and the early 2000’s emo bands like The Get Up Kids and Saves the Day. It seems that the only appropriate way to enjoy this band is screaming the lyrics to the songs along with them. And that’s exactly how I intend on enjoying them.
Book: The Twits
Author: Roald Dahl
Published: 1980
I am not sure I needed to read The Minpins and The Magic Finger, but I did. All three of these stories came packaged together in the audio book. I am not sorry for it as I loved The Minpins. I suppose read isn’t the right verb to use in this context. Listened it is.
Roald Dahl is obsessed with our ethical responsibilities to the other living creatures we share this planet. His sense of ethics are clear in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. All of the children aside from Charlie suffer unfortunate ends due to character flaws and poor behavior. Hints reveal his concern for life apart from human; in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, he’s careful to justify how the Oompa Loompas turned up in the factory.
I wonder if the current trend toward sustainability isn’t in part due to a generation raised on Roald Dahl books coming into middle age. Dr Seuss was a contributer here too with The Lorax. I never considered the role that writers might play in shaping the minds of the next generation until now. This is due to my own struggles with reading as a child.
I didn’t have any favorite books growing up. I didn’t read. Couldn’t is perhaps a more accurate word. I am dyslexic and failed to sort out my reading issues until I was 16 or 17.
When people describe a love of childhood stories, I can’t relate. But had I been a little reader, I would have loved The Minpins. This is about the secret world in trees. And I loved that world. One of the characters rides a swan to other hidden worlds. The story is beautiful and fantastic. I loved every word of it.
I know that I’ve not mentioned The Twits. It was an entertaining read, but my heart was stolen by The Minpins. Roald Dahl would have captivated me as a child. He continues to captivate me as an adult.
Book: CLAN of the Cave Bear
Author: Jean M. Auel
Published: 1980
I get the point of this book. I understand the research that preceeded it. I respect research.
The book is set in prehistoric history when early versions of man were competing to survive and evolve. What we recognize as humans had just emerged, and our ancestors were starting to die off. The book provides enormous detail describing what life was like for early man, including lists of available plants and animals and tools that were in use at the time.
I appreciate the effort that this required. This only elevates my disappointment at the other aspects of the book. The dialog is shit, partially this is due to the neanderthal characters speaking mostly in a primative form of sign language. But the plot is terrible too. The main story arc describes a struggle between the heroine and her nemesis. Unfortunately neither of them are well develope, and they are devoid of any complex emotions. When this arc was resolved at the end of the book, I felt nothing.
This book is solidly mediocre. All that great research really can’t make up for everything else that is lacking. Read at your own risk.
I love The Black Keys. I love that they are died in the wool Akron boys. I love their raw blues sound.
I saw them at the Madison some years back. The venue is small and sweaty and remains nicotine stained despite years of being smoke free. It was my ideal setting to see them. I was doubtful I would enjoy seeing them two years following at US Bank Arena. I couldn’t conceive of their sound translating well to that cavernous venue. I was surprised.
I also saw The Black Keys at Lollapalooza years and years ago. They were unknown at the time, and played bright and early. The crowd was patiently staking out their spots for Nine Inch Nails, and barely engaged. The sound was awful.
I am ready to have that unfortunate fest experience erased from my mind. This context will be different simply because The Keys are successful enough to headline a fest. Here’s to my second experience with the Black Keys.
There’s no plausible explanation for why at twenty years old in 1996 we were listening to The Mama’s and The Papa’s constantly. Mama Cass’s sweet harmonies would emanate from the boom box in the living room of our house in Clifton. AM Radio blared in our kitchen for all of my first 18 years of life. All of this primed me to fall in love with Temples.
Temples bring all of the things that I love about 60’s pop without the acid-soaked lyrics. I love them. Check out the visuals in this video; they say it all. The Mamas & Papas would dig it. Temples play on Friday at Bunbury.
I find it difficult to write about anything when I am going through personal upheaval. It squelches my creativity. And although my random musings might appear off-hand and thoughtless, they require quite a bit of work on my part. Trust me when I say no one would want to read what comes off the top of my head.
This is the context for my delay in producing my posts describing my favorite Bunbury 2015 acts. I have been listening plenty. I just haven’t been able to formulate words about it. Yet, I am running out of time. I must accept that creativity probably won’t come back to me in a timely fashion and power through some posts. Power through it: my mantra for 2015.
Royal Blood. Holy two-piece-band-that-rips-my-face-off-with-gutwrenching-rock-and-roll Batman!! That was awkward, but let’s power through it. If the sexy, crunchy guitars of The Black Keys were layered under Muse’s bombast you would have Royal Blood. These guys have enormous buzz behind them, and I can’t wait to check them out.
As mentioned in yesterday’s blog, I have more blog topics and pictures than words right now. So, in the interests of working out the backlog here’s some pictures of the Andrew WK show at The Woodward Theater. It was great fun.
I am behind again. I saw several shows and went on several shoots and failed to upload and process my shots. When they pile up, I know my time at the computer grows exponentially.
This particular group of shots were 400 strong when I finally shifted them onto my hard drive. Just culling out the unnecessary duplicates can take a couple hours. Then I battle my inner critic and indecision in post processing.
Let’s not even get into how hard it is to find words to accompany my visuals. The Sonics deserve more words than what I have. These guys brought all the intensity of a freight train barreling through the country side. From my vantage point to the right of the stage, I could feel the wooden floor throbbing with hundreds of feet pounding out their rythm.
Bright Light Social hour is sexy southern rock with a hearty dash of blues. They bring a more subtle energy to the stage, but it feels earnest. They seem most at home jamming, and even while playing tunes off their recording it feels fresh live.
Aside from the music pictures, I explored a bit of Newport, KY. It’s impossible to spend any length of time in Cincinnati and not hear of The Brass Ass. It’s exterior visuals have escaped me until just now. It’s perfect. I also got a few random shots of spring on the Cincinnati side of the river.
Random plug: Trailhead Coffee in Reser Bike Shop is delicious. They have O Pie O pies on Saturdays, and this has become my Saturday morning routine. In the spirit of Agent Dale Cooper, you must experience this goodness. Also, many thanks to Reser for an excellent tune up. I didn’t realize how out of wack my rode was. Well done, friends. No more words. Just pictures.
Book: i Capture the Castle
Author: Dodie Smith
Published: 1948
A less interesting title for this book could be, Exercising Good Judgement in Love. And congratulations, main character of this book, you’ve managed to stick the landing on this while simultaneously being seventeen. And here lies the most preposterous aspect of the book’s plot. I’ve known many 17 year-old girls, myself included. Sensible judgement is not their strong suit.
But this book was published in the 40’s. Humans seemed to mature faster in the past. Perhaps that’s to do with so many men getting shipped off to wars at 18. Perhaps that’s to do with women becoming mothers at 20. Or perhaps it’s due to a shorter life expectancy in our not-so-distant past. What I do know is that maturity seemed to come earlier to people at that point in time. Perhaps maturity is driven by environment, and the lazy hairless apes that we are will fail to mature until life forces otherwise.
The book goes to lengths to indicate that the main character is mature for her age. But some things require experience. This girl exercises good judgement the first time she falls in love. I cannot suspend my disbelief.
But Castles are romantic. The setting for this book is an old castle in the English country side. The descriptions of the seasons passing over this idyllic setting are delicious.
The book is ok. I won’t read it again. If you love romance novels this might be your bag. It simply isn’t mine.
Yikes. I am behind. My Rubblebucket pictures have been inprisoned on my camera’s memory card for nearly two weeks sans my attention. In the interests of keeping things moving, I’m just going to leave this pictures here. Also, if you have a chance to see Rubblebucket, do so just to watch the fun. It really doesn’t matter if their music is your bag, you will enjoy their energy and performance.
Vacationer at The Woodward. They opened for Rubblebucket.
Rubblebucket at The Woodward
Rubblebucket at The Woodward. This show was so fun.
Kate's Queen City Notes 