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September 30 Laying The Beat Down What can I say, craigslist is great. It's because of this Web site that I am now the owner of a Pearl Export Series Drum Set. At first this felt like a frivolous purchase to me. It's something that I've wanted since I can remember, but it's been one of those pipe dream wants that you never seriously think you'll get. But then craigslist came along.
Since then, I've been hitting the skins, laying down some phat beats. Yeah, I realize I just said fat with a 'ph'. It's shit like that, that reminds me that I'll never, ever be cool.
Once I had found out that the drum set was mine, two realities set in: 1) I now had a legitimate reason to own drumsticks and 2) the set was in Everett, which is fucking far away. The first item was wiped out over lunch. The second task, however, required well more than a 30 minute window.
Going to Everett meant a couple things. For starters, I couldn't get there until after work, which nowadays (counting the bus ride), would put me there around 7:30PM. Most normal people would guess that traffic at 7:30 would be light to nothing. This too was my understanding, prior to moving to Seattle. Since then I-5 has taught me a few things: 1) the left lane isn't necessarily the fastest and 2) it could be jackoff hour and still be stop-n-go traffic.
I'm expected to work, ride the bus and drive to and from Everett with no sustenance? Clearly, this couldn't do. Thankfully, I'm in Seattle, which means that I can find a coffee shop easier than a restroom. Sure enough, I step off the bus and low and behold, ye olde coffee shope, purveyor of overpriced pastries and wake-up juice.
I walk in said shop and look over the menu. I have no idea why I do this because I know exactly what I want before I open the door. It's like I'm entertaining them or something, when all I want is a medium drip coffee. Typically this exchange is quick. "What can I get you today?", she says. My token reply is, "Hmm, well, what drip coffee do you have?" For some reason I always ask this even though I've already taken the time to spy what drip they're serving. Not only that, but for some reason most places have two types of drip coffee: one that sucks and one that doesn't.
One variety is guarenteed to be decaf. I actually know people who like decaf, which completely baffles me. It's like drinking non-alcholic beer, if you're gonna drink shit, what's the point? My selection is easy; I tell her to hook me up with a medium house blend. She relies, "Room for cream?" I always say yes and wince. Again, if you put creamer in your coffee, paricularly to the point where it looks like chocolate milk, you shouldn't be drinking coffee. This shit is the black blood of the earth. Fucking enjoy it or step off.
While she's getting me my drip, the Barista at the other end of the cafe shouts out, "Grande non-fat 1/2 soy iced decaf mocha, extra cream." I instantly realize that the person who ordered before me is a huge asshole. He's a guy with medium-length blonde hair, perfect teeth and stone washed jeans. Seattle has made me realize one, largely unknown scientific fact: how big of an asshole you are is a function of who complicated your coffee is. Yes, I legitimately used the word 'function', I know total nerd...
The first thing that crossed my mind was, "If his coffee is this rediculous, I'd hate to pick a pick a restuarant with this motherfucker." Seriously. I get my coffee, settle with the Barista and head over to the 'coffee station'. This is basically a bar that provides more condiments than McDonalds. I reach for the sugar - the only thing I give a damn about - but WHOA, I get cut off by Blondie. Normally, I'm a laid back person, but I've got two things working against me: Blondie and a serious need for some caffeine.
Instantly, I think that if I was forced to fight one person right now, I'd fight this dude. At the same time I think about how much Cassie hates it when I say shit like that. She says, "You always say that; you're so full of shit." I can't disagree.
Finally the sugar is relinquished and I'm on A-street. Within the first few sips, I can feel that shit hit my veins. The sudden rush and invigoration. At this point I'm pretty jacked up; I'm going to get a drum set and I just got a coffee fix.
The drive to Everett turned out to be more benign than I anticipated. After shelling out five benjis, the car was packed with a gray-black drum set. Like a kid at Christmas, I unloaded the relic into a spare room into my basement. Without saying, it's damn cool. It's official; I've been promoted from Music Snob PFC to MJR Music Asshole. August 27 Let's take this pony for a ride...If we drop the bomb sideways,
Won't have to see where it lands,
To keep ourselves out of trouble,
We'd have to cut off our hands,
But we can't spare any knives,
Let's take this pony for a ride....
It's finally happened. The Divorce have dropped their long awaited sophmore effort, "The Gifted Program." For anyone who knows me, it goes without saying that The Divorce has been my favorite band the last year or so. For those who are unfamiliar, here's the elevator pitch for these guys:
The Divorce are a young, Seattle-based band who have managed to rework new wave, punk rock and brit-pop with clever lyrics and well thought out song writing, resulting in ultrahip indie rock.
By far, these guys have some of the best potential of any local Seattle group. If they sold stock, I'd be buying. I was able to take their new record for a test drive. For anyone who rocked out to their first, ground breaking record, "There Will Be Blood Tonight", you'll be pleased with their most recent offering.
With the recent addition of a new guitarist, The Divorce are coming into their own. Their sound is more refined and their direction is much clearer. The new record sports the same well written songs and smart lyrics found on the prior release, but it's obvious that the band is more mature. On this release we find a band who's found their niche, who's doing things completely on their terms.
The only advice I have for these guys is that they should shy away from the long, slow ballad songs. I'm totally for the "Don't knock it until you've tried it" approach, so kudos for walking down a different path, but um, don't do it anymore.
If anyone's interested, they're having a CD release party on September 9th, at the Crocodile, in Seattle. The Croc's a 21+ only venue, plus it's as small as a shoebox, and will be a great place to hear the new material live.
All we wanted was to make you dance,
All we asked you for was just a chance,
To drain your blood and fill up with gas,
And leave you beggin' us to light the match... December 10 I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier...Alright kids, it's time to talk about music. Besides attending one of the best concerts I've ever been to last night, there's been a few other newsworthly events going on. First off, I'll start by giving my salute to "Dimebag" Darrell Abbot who was killed in a night club in Ohio. Definitly a big loss for the music community. For the unknowing, Dimebag was the guitarist for the band Pantera. Pantera is straight up metal music; loud as hell. If you've ever listened to Pantera you'd know that this guy's guitar chops are built like a brick shithouse. Plus come on, their third major label record Far Beyond Driven, debuted at #1 in 1994, not to mention Grammy nominations in 1995 and 2001. For those of us about to rock, we salute you. The results are out, folks. And it looks like file-sharing doesn't hurt most musicians. Sounds like a news flash to you? It shouldn't. I've been preaching for some time that mp3s help way more than they hurt. Getting exposure, especially for new bands, is the most important thing. Maybe someone downloads your songs, likes you, and because of that starts going to your shows and buying your merchandise. For sure, musicians can get a healthy cut from royalties, but far and large the people most concerned about mp3 file-sharing are the record label executives. Sure, you can cut the artists off, but as soon as you start pissing with the labels a legion of lawyers shows up at your doorstep. Rediculous. People need to wake up and realize that this isn't a war against file-sharing or mp3s. Like most other ones, it's a war about control and money. These guys are fighting an uphill battle that I guarentee they won't win. Trust me. And please, give me a break, if they really want to sell more records they should cut the price of CDs. The days of 15-20 bones per album are over. Try less than 10. Instead they're flooding CDs with 'special edition' covers and inserts, live DVDs and special giveaways to encourage more sales. I'm not buying a goddamn cracker jack box; I'm just looking for some good tunes at a reasonable price. Anyhoo, back to the show I went to. It was at Key Arena, in Seattle, and featured: -Snow Patrol All I can say is WOW. Someone stacked the deck. If you ever get the chance to see any of these groups, I highly recommend it. Everyone was good, but The Killers and Franz Ferdinand drilled their sets; both were extremely solid. If you haven't heard of or listened to either one of these bands, hit yourself in the head with a tack hammer then go pick up their records. |
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