Top 10 CDs of 2011

2012 is finally upon us. Finally may not be the correct word. For me 2011 was a flash of light, but I am thrilled to have a good selection of music to help me remember the year. Now, I have the difficult task of picking my Top Ten Albums of 2011.

Before I get into it, a few caveats:

Like last year, I am only ranking albums that I actually purchased. As you get into this list, you may see some names that you do not recognize. It is important to remember that I go to A LOT of concerts, as a result I have the opportunity to see some bands that are just starting out, doing regional touring, playing Thursday sets to 25 people, and struggling to get to the next destination. If the band is good, I always buy the CD. Also, as much as I want to be completely objective, I know I am not. Where I struggle the most is when an artist has multiple CDs. It seems somewhat impossible for me to judge the recent one without reflecting on the older CDs. In some cases that hurt an artist’s place in the Top Ten, in some cases it prevented them from even making the Top Ten, but in the case of my top pick, it helped them secure the Best Album of 2011.

To be honest this list was somewhat of a surprise to me and seemed to be ever changing as the year progressed. Unlike last year, when I got into December and started trying to remember all the CDs I bought, this year I kept a spreadsheet that I added CDs to as I purchased them, and after a week in the car, I would loosely assign a rank. What surprised me is how some CDs that I thought were going to be top contenders in January or February ended up not even making the list. A few things that were significant factors were how much play time an album got, what I would have done differently if I had recorded the CD, standout songs, vocals, lyrics, did I get to see them live, and how did they do. I understand the last should absolutely not be a factor when ranking Albums, but damn it if you cannot do it live, then your CD means less to me. Also, I did not rank EPs. EPs tend to piss me off because they leave me feeling unfulfilled. That being said, if you are going to buy one from 2011, it should be Far From the Tree by Peach. It was refreshingly raw and powerful. Lastly, I am confident that had I been able to see the Pistol Annies live, Hell on Heels would have made this list.

#10 Old Soul – Stevie & the Hi-StaXX

Of all the CDs on this list, I feel I was the most unfair to Old Soul by Stevie & the Hi-StaXX. Had it been from any other artist it could have been a top 5 contender. The lyrics are intelligent and powerful. Stevie’s voice is clear, controlled, and emotive, and while definitely paying homage to the soul of old, musically, the CD sounds like a modern interpretation, as opposed to a copy cat. So why did it end up at #10? My favorite CD of all time is Armaghetto which is from Stevie Harris’ first band, Conglomerate. I know I shouldn’t be comparing his first band to his current project, but I cannot help it. Conglomerate was Stevie. This CD is Stevie. I cannot separate the two. Where “Old Soul” falls short for me is Stevie’s reliance on falsetto. I know where the influences are coming from, and why he made the stylist change, but that doesn’t mean I have to embrace it. The reality is Steve Harris has the biggest voice I have ever heard, and I feel shortchanged when he takes a line to falsetto as opposed to powering it up there. I know this makes it seem like I am placing him in a box, that I am not respecting his artistic freedom, but Armaghetto had such a profound effect on me. It was the first CD that made me realize there was amazing music outside of the confines of the shit radio had been spoon feeding me, and that is hard to escape. “Where” is the closest Stevie comes to the in-your-face Heavy Soul that changed my life.

#9 When You Grow Up – Priscilla Ahn

When looking at this list Priscilla Ahn must seem the most out of place. Everything else appears to be so dark, and even in her darkest moments, her beautiful round tone and playful instrumentation ends up making the song seem light and hopeful, and this album is definitely more sunshine and roses than her debut release, A Good Day. Although there is more love than longing on When You Grow Up, the CD is well produced, the lyrics are thoughtful and sincere, and Priscilla’s voice is the perfection of purity. What helped Priscilla fight her way into the top ten was an absolutely incredible performance during a disgustingly under-attended show at the Old Rock House and possibly my second favorite song of the year, “I Don’t Have Time to be In Love.” As someone that spends way too much time at work, has a really robust social life, and is still chasing the dream of music, I definitely relate to this song. It is so easy to deny love because we are too busy for it, but when it is real, we will make the time.

#8 Barton Hollow – The Civil Wars

There is no question that I love soulful music, the more I want to cry when focusing on your words, the tone of your voice, the pain in your chord structure, the more I love your song. It is also no secret that I am a sucker for harmonies. As a choir kid, it is something I will never escape. When I hear them my ears perk-up like a cat stalking the scratching sounds of a mouse from 2 rooms away. Barton Hollow offers both in a stripped down recording that has become the friend I turn to when I am wallowing in a dark funk. That being said, I feel like I need to apologize to the John Paul White and Joy Williams for this placement. Had I made this list when the CD first came out, it probably would have been in the Top 5, but I overplayed it. That, coupled with my complete obsession with their 2009 release, Live at Eddie’s Attic, caused this CD to lose some position in my Top 10 list. Barton Hollow does feature my favorite song of 2011, “Poison and Wine.” What I loved about this recording is they didn’t over produce it. Studio albums are always going to have more layers than a live album, but they stayed pretty true to the live version on this recording, and I respect that, that they understand how powerful the song is, that they realize that adding to can often detract. I’d also like to say that the Civil Wars were probably my second favorite show of the year, and I will be seeing them again in January.

#7 Strange Negotiations – David Bazan

As a longtime fan of Pedro the Lion I was elated that David Bazan put out a new CD. Of my top ten, Strange Negotiations is, instrumentally, the most exciting to my ears. That probably just confused some of you, as it is possibly the least complex, but I love the tension that sparseness manifests. I love the tones David and company create throughout the recording, the thick fuzzed bass, the droning guitars with natural tube overdrive, the well placed atmospherics, and, in general, I am more drawn to down-tempo tunes than up-tempo rockers. This CD is full of thinkers. You put it in on a nice long drive and lose yourself in the stories. Lyrically, it is raw, honest, reflective, and personal. He opens his mind to us, allows us to witness his creation, feel his pains, and attempt to understand his existential dilemma. If there was a fault to this CD it might be that it is so personal, as a result some may struggle to internalize the connection to it. As for a standout track, I am going to go with “Wolves at the Door.” They are all really strong, but this is just such a great introduction to the CD. You instantly know that Bazan is back and going to treat you to an amazing recording.

#6 Wilderness – The Features

I had the pleasure of opening for the Features this year at Cicero’s, and it was one of the highlights of my musical career. They are amazing, and they proved it on 2011’s Wilderness. Some Kind of Salvation was the kind of disc that you wear out which made me kind of worried about Wilderness. How could it be that good? It is that good by being that different. While Matt Pelham’s vocals are still a focal point for me, this CD is rougher around the edges. It is like that seedy little hole in the wall that you cannot help but love. It forces you to move rather than just listen. It takes music from being purely auditory and cerebral and makes you have a physical relationship with it. I am actually listening to the CD right now and struggling to find something critical to say. The only thing I came up with was the keys. At times their voicing is a little too churchy or 80’s for me. I think I would have preferred a more dirty Rhodes or thick B-3 sound. Standout track, “Big Mama Gonna Whip Us Good.” How do you not love a song with a title like that?

#5 Death and Other Forms of Relaxation – Union Tree Review

Of the Top 10 this may be the hardest for me to write because of my connection to them. After all we shared a band member for two years which ultimately broke-up my band. I have seen UTR so many times that I really wasn’t sure what to expect from this CD. They have a history of becoming too liberal with their consumption before a gig which can lead to clusterfuck of sorts, but when they are on, they are incredible. So which Union Tree Review was going to show up on the disc…the disc that they self-produced and recorded in an apartment? The incredible one. It is important to note that had Tawaine Noah (lead singer and songwriter) dropped a solo disc with just him and the guitar, it probably would have made the Top 10. He is an old soul with a modern pen. His lyrics are personal yet accessible, heartfelt and hopeful. That being said, the more I listened to this CD the more my ears were drawn to Jordan’s guitar and Matt’s well placed drumming. I am also obsessed with Patrick’s harmonies. That being said this CD is not free from fault, none are really, and this is more a matter of taste then error, but I feel like the viola, trumpet, and two guitars end up crowding the middle. Rather than having tonal and pitch differentiation they tend to sit in the same register which muddies the builds. I am torn between three songs as my top pick, “Interstate” and “Parties” both mesmerize me, but for the opening line “Your coffee is bitter like I, at least it’s got an excuse. Like you it’s cold and taste like scotch,” my pick goes to “Facing Fools.”

#4 Running from a Gamble – Company of the Thieves

Where do I begin with Company of Thieves? I am about to be accused of blaspheme, just remember when I explained that this blog is about my opinion and though I try to be objective, I cannot always be. To me the pairing of Walloch and Schatz is up there with Page and Plant or DeLeo and Weiland. Yes. I just said that. Marc Walloch is an amazing guitarist. He understands the roots of the instrument, but rather than show up with a slew of vintage gear in an attempt to recreate what once was, tonally he pushes the boundaries of what the guitar can be without sacrificing its guitarness. If you do not know that name, it is probably because Genevieve Schatz has such a powerful presence that she kind of becomes the band. Her voice is unmatched, soaring and soulful. I have seen them four times in the last 18 months, and have always left feeling inspired. Let’s talk Running from a Gamble. We are getting into the territory where the current album is not only equal to previous releases, it surpasses them. I absolutely love Ordinary Riches, but I do not think it did justice to the songwriting duo that is Walloch and Schatz. It was kind of the Genevieve show, which is a great show; however, on Running from a Gamble Marc’s guitar grabs you by the jaw, spins your ear towards his amp, and demands that you listen to him. If you do, you will be glad you did. Similarly, I think the band as a whole showed themselves as a powerful force of rock, soul, and groove. Eitan Bernstein’s keys are thick and tasteful, and the rhythm section of drummer Chris Faller and bassist Marcin Sulewski, is one of the best you will find in any band, tight, prominent but not overpowering. This was the first CD where I knew, immediately, what my favorite track was. Sonically “Gorgeous/Grotesque” strums every chord of this rockers heart. Its dynamic shifts give it breath and energy, and the builds make we want to kick shit over, turn my amp to 11, light it on fire, and watch it burn while I play my guitar with a ferocity that would frighten children.

#3 Ashes and Fire – Ryan Adams

Ryan Adams is back. I should probably just stop there. I mean how do I write about one of my biggest influences? If you are a fan of Ryan Adams, you probably know he is amazingly prolific and has never confined himself to a particular genre. If you are a fan, you also probably have a favorite period of Ryan Adams, whether it was with Whiskeytown, his first 3 solo CDs, the meanderings through rock and indie rock with Rock-N-Roll and Love is Hell, or his work with the Cardinals. Well, for me, his first 3 CDs are untouchable, and Ashes and Fire, takes a circular move back to the beginning. The lyrics are sensitive and sincere. They paint breathtaking images and impel you to feel, if only for the 3 minutes that they wash over you. The instrumentation is sparse but layered with enough variance to keep the ears excited during a first to last listen. His voice is tender and pure. It is the kind of CD that when you put it on you immediately want to pop a cork, light a candle, and hold someone you love. It was really hard for me to pick a favorite song, so I’ll claim the bookends. “Dirty Rain” and “I Love You But I Don’t Know What To Say.” Both will melt you.

#2 Beekeepers – My Molly

Unless you have never read any of my Blogs, my Twitter, or my Facebook, you should have seen this coming. I have been gushing about My Molly for three years now, and when they released Beekeepers, I dropped a review. Rather than rehashing the blog, I’ll just let you read it, remind you that I love this CD and tell you to do yourself a favor and purchase it. By total plays, production, vocals, lyrics, and ability to do it live, this CD definitely deserved placement in the Top Ten, and the back to back heart melting combination of “Fission and Fusion” and “Tie Me to the Mast (a Sirens Song)” helped secure it as the 2^nd best CD of 2011.

#1 Little Hell – City and Colour

Where to start with this album…where to start? First I should say I love everything Dallas Green has done under the guise of City and Colour, and while having multiple albums may have negatively impacted others, it helped this CD. In truth, if I were completely objective, this CD would have still been my #1 regardless of past work, but, for me, City and Colour keeps getting better. The rich instrumentation and layers on this CD create the tension and release that I love in music. The well placed pedal steel on various tracks makes my ears happy, Dallas has the most amazing voice since Jeff Buckley, and more importantly, he proves it during his live performances. City and Colours’ show at the Pageant this year, was definitely my #1 concert going experience of 2011. Yeah. I said that. I meant that, and I stand by that. There are so many breathtaking songs on this CD, it is next to impossible to pick a favorite, but I am going to go with “Sorrowing Man.” The lyrics are powerful and speak to me. I love the dirty resonance and controlled drive of the rhythm section, not over powering or fighting for dominance but definitely driving the song. Please do yourself a favor and buy this CD. You will be glad you did. Your lover will be glad you did. Your neighbors will be glad you did. Your co-workers will thank you.

And there we have MY Top Ten of 2011. I am sure for many of you there are CDs that you feel deserved a spot on this list, and I would love to hear about them, so please feel free to comment with your Top Ten of 2011.

#MicroPoetry Recap: September and October

We have made it to November, and as I look back on some of the tiny poetry I have posted for the world to read or ignore, I am reminded of the kind of writer I am, how I live in series, how my themes are cyclical, how I hide reality behind poetic device, how I dream of love and want to feel wanted. In the end, I am happy with the writer I am. I couldn't be any other way.

For those that follow these posts on my Twitter or Facebook, you may notice some differences between the original posts and what is shown below. I always do a little last minute editing before sending the blog.

Hope everyone enjoys. I'd love to read some feedback on the words, the themes, the intent...whatever you feel as a result of reading the fissures of my mind.



I stood there
Staring up sincerely
Wanting to play Romeo
Juliet never came

Woke up in nightmare
Empty room
Foxes agitating elephants
Decibels attempting to break psyche
I power down

I didn't think of you
Until exhaustion took control
And sparks illuminated grey caverns
Where your image was put to rest

Followed the ghost through hallowed passages cutting the city's core
Headlights on red lights that disappeared in fog

Drove open interstate
Baptized by September's crisp kiss and soulful sounds
Reborn beneath midnight moon

Light's fragmented finger
Races claps of thunder across a splintered sky
As he navigates curves from nipple to button

At apex of sweaty exhaustion
I heard it
Everyday I'm shufflin'
And I sounded my barbaric yelp
FUCK
THIS
SONG

If I was a painter
I would interpret this sky
All haze grey
With descending lemon sun displaying dominance

I danced in Summer End’s grey mist morning
Floating through fog like Monet's lilies
Felt air wrap around me like your arms once did

The salty-sweet nectar thinned by saliva
The shallow breath tremble felt beneath palm
The release in your eyes

Heard unexpected voice in sleep-eyed morning
Semi-conscious
Heart pounding
Active cognition offers explanation

She sat silent
Staring into black morning
Hidden strangers
Watch her sip coffee
For the last time

I played her body like a virtuoso
Caressing dissonant chords
Creating tension and release
The symphony of her breath

Her fingers rolled the worn ivory like a restless wave
Manipulated the moment with introduction of ebony's minor fall

Chased crescent moon
Weaving red river rapids
World a blur of sound and wind
My head
Clear
My heart
Alive

Lips lost in shadows
Nape of neck
Beneath pale yellow glow of Gibbous Moon
Exposed
Wanting
Tongue sears flesh

And I
Cocooned by pillows and high thread count
Could sleep for days with only your movie playing in my mind

Your eyes
Speak with laughter and levity
My eyes
Listen with earnest and envy

Tangled fingers
Release butterflies
Awkwardness of slow-motion collision
Flesh finding flesh for first time

I woke up so I could force myself to dream of you
Your smile
The tone of your voice in this created conversation

Your fingers that run my hair then trickle down my face
Remind me of what it feels like to be connected
To be happy

Your voice
Reaching rafters
Spirals softly downward
Engulfs me
Wraps me in emotions I thought long forgotten

Your belly
Round with baby
Removes all flaws

Heard whisper turn to roar
Saw increased intensity with each illuminated demand
Felt foundation shake at climax

You held hostage my dreams
Captivated the current
Forced the future
Painted pictures so vivid
My heart heard

I still remember how she looked in her summer dress
Bare back and shoulders
Exposing the art work the world rarely sees

I imagine your touch
The placement of your head on my chest
The sensation of holding you tighter as you succumb

I saw your slow spiral downward
Once hanging from limb smiling at the sun
Now floating on silent wind

Dance floor
Illuminated by silver hue of midnight moon
Our bodies
Perfectly paired puzzle pieces moving as one

Your foreign touch feels familiar
Shivers me with anticipation
Produces shallow breath
We move to midnight music

His mind plays tricks
Descending to darkness when the world is absent sun
Imagination controls night thoughts

I live in shadows of waking thought
Riding fissures from limbic system to frontal lobe
Holding close hope and aspirations

Aroused by April's brisk wind
He stands at attention
Receiving final orders
Before permission to penetrate the fortress is granted

I lay beneath clouds so thick
My cold soul could no longer feel sunshine
Like when your smile went flat
Your eyes empty

Fingers on hot flesh
Silent shallow breath
Lovers speak through their bodies

She slept
Head on my chest
I felt her dream
Deep breaths
Eyes fluttering
She escaped nightmare
By my embrace

Ghouls and goblins
Ring doorbells with sugar-high fingers
While werewolves stalk kittens
Hoping for a late night snack

I Love You when You Sleep

I have never been a huge fan of explaining my poetry. It's as if I have given a nicely wrapped present and blurted out the secret of its content before the final piece of tape is pulled. But this one isn't really shrouded in mystery, so I will just say this, it is an amazing time to be living in St. Louis.


I Love You when You Sleep

Black Borsalinos and trench coats
Shuffle down sparsely populated sidewalks
Youthful eyes of old ladies carrying yoga mats
Agendas trickle down open highways
Previously filled with turn signals and brake lights
For some
The final stop
For others
The first of many
All motivated to get there
To be there
To move while the rest sleep
They lay
Behind locked doors
Beneath ceiling fans
Wrapped in wool and covered by down
Dreaming of red birds and sheep
Twitching to I, IV, V heartbeat
Those high on the hill
Wave their green, white, red
Paying homage to heritage and sister city
Southerners scar themselves in remembrance
Wide open West
Now cluttered with track housing and strip malls
Bridges built to bring together
Create barriers
Lines of demarcation
Fabricated fear surrounds the North
Where children play with innocent smiles
Unknowing
But now
Now they sleep
Peaceful
And the beauty of this moment is captured by those that see sunrise

Reveille

I am kind of odd in that I am both a morning and a night person. It is mid-day and early evening that suck for me. I have definitely always had a special relationship with the morning, and that relationship is brought to its pinnacle when there is someone else to share it with.

I had just intended to create a #MicroPoetry this morning, but there were too many pieces to the image I was painting.

Reveille

Woke-up
Chest to back
My arm
Beneath breasts
Clutching ribs
Your hands
Beneath pillows in prayer pose
Angelic
Our lower trunks
Flesh to flesh
Both transuding and thickening
Our legs
Tangled root system
Soft silken skin
Woven through weathered limbs
Your feet
Cold
Burrowed between mine and sheets
Your hair
Shrouding sleeping smile
My white fringes
Pop against purple pillow
My lips find your lobe
To whisper your reveille

Connecting the Dots - Explaining the Poet Process

Lips lost in shadows
Nape of neck
Beneath pale yellow glow of Gibbous Moon
Exposed
Wanting
Tongue sears flesh

Those that follow my Twitter or my Facebook posts may have seen that already, and all of you will see it again when I do my next Quarterly #MicroPoetry recap, but I wanted to use it to play connect the dots.

A week or so ago one of my friends who has been very complimentary of my #MicroPoetry posts asked me where I get them from…where the words come from. It is a question that I am frequently asked. As per usual, I responded with something along the lines of, “The words are always in my head. I am just glad to have an outlet for them.” That is a true statement; however, it is a cop out. There is more to it than that. There is a process. Sometimes the process is as close to Chaos Theory as one who does not understand Chaos Theory and can only reference it because he saw Jurassic Park can come. Other times, this time, there are dots that can be connected.

My mornings begin at 4:00, actually 3:57. I am kind of freakish about numbers. I like 7s, 4s, and 3s. In my head, if I set my alarm for 3:57, I will be more likely to wake up than if I set it for 4:00 on the dot (No. I do not really believe this theory; however, I still apply its principles). I get up early so I can make it to the gym by 4:30. This is a two snooze process. The first 9 minutes are used to fight pains, keep my eyes closed, and take deep morning breaths. The second 9 minutes are used to check texts from overnight, Twitter, Facebook, and E-mail. God forbid something important waits more than the 5 hours I slept to get a reply. It is during this time that I start to gain cognizance, and my mind herds all the images and words from my paradoxical sleep into cohesive, logical, thought. When I wrote that poem, my mind could not stop saying new moon, so I went with it. Over the next hour, while my body was enduring a series of sweaty and pain inducing exercises, my mind wrote, but it did not put words on paper, it spoke the words. It switched out words, restructure lines, and tweaked them until there was a flow. By the time I left the gym, I knew, just about, what I wanted to post, but I was not done.

While I am a believer in “first thought, best thought” (a famed Ginsberg quote), I am also a fan of “Check yourself before you wreck yourself” (courtesy of Ice Cube). – At times I can get so wrapped up in the rhythm, the meter, the flow, that the words will not make sense (see rant about Chaos Theory above...I liked the flow and the comedic bend; however, when read closely, it doesn't really mean what I had intended to say, but I left it in there to prove this point...yes I am jerk for making you go back to re-read that). During college I was a member of the Griffin Literary Society. We were sharing work one day and Ryan Buller called me to task on it, on the fact that while a piece I had written had incredible flow, it wasn't accurate. One of the few critiques that has stuck with me. – The reality is I didn’t exactly know what a New Moon was. I knew it was part of the lunar phase, but not which part. Thanks to Google and Wiki, I learned a New Moon ain’t illuminating shit. Google also reminded me that it was part of the Twilight trilogy, something I wanted to avoid. I like entendre as much as the next self-absorbed writer, but if the allusion is to a teen-centric pop-culture phenomenon, thanks, but I will pass. By this time I was fixated on the nape of the neck, about how it looks with soft light of midnight moon breaking blinds to illuminate it, as hair and face, shoulder and arm, disappeared into the dark corners. I needed a different moon to accurately create that image. I could use Full Moon, but, much like Twilight, I did not want to make any blatant Werewolf references, so I opted for gibbous. With the brush and colors determined, I set off to paint my picture. The majority of my morning poetry posts come out of this process.

But why moon; why nape?

Well, this is where I speculate, where I try to uncover the secrets of the subconscious mind. As you probably know, I drive a convertible, and I LOVE driving top-down. I worked late last night. My trek home was a peaceful journey lit by headlights and moon glow. Another contributing factor could be my drives to the gym. The world is amazing in the 4 o’clock hour: still, silent, dimly lit by Closed signs and moon light. Those moments of calm have a tendency to ingrain themselves in my memories; they create multiple traces, causing quick recall. As a result, they often find their way into my writing.

Originally I thought "nape of neck" was just my love of literary consonance, and that definitely played a part, but then I remembered this picture my friend Jessica Hayley recently posted. Jessica is in the band Bye Bye Blackbird and is an amazing singer; she also acts and often has the best damn profile pictures on Facebook, not just because she is pretty, but because they are artsy. They have good composition and are emotive. Here is the shot:



The image made an immediate impression on me. The darkness of her hair and black shirt juxtaposed against her lightly sunkissed skin and the textured white backdrop. It was as if a painter was using chiaroscuro to provide dimension, to direct our focal point, and my eyes went to the triangle, the shadow of hair on neck, the tender skin between neck and collar bone. It was mesmerizing. It wasn’t until today, when I revisited the photo, that I realized her shirt was low enough to misguide eyes, driving them to another triangle, the dark shadow separating lust from love. This is also where poetic license comes into play. The photo did not feature Jessica's nape, but "side of neck" just doesn't have the same ring to it. But why now? Why some fifteen days since I originally saw the photo did it find its way back to my psyche?

This:



That image was being tossed around on Facebook yesterday. One of my friends posted it, and I shared it. I saw several of my friends share it, and I got a TON of likes on it. The statement obviously resonated with many people, and it really touched on a core belief of mine. Media and industry have done an amazing job of misrepresenting what is beautiful, like their sole purpose is to create unobtainable ideals that are only attractive to the fringes. Women (and men) are slicing themselves open at an alarming rate, stuffing plastic pillows in chests and asses because to a weak mind that is going to make them prettier, going to give them confidence, but their definition of pretty is so incredibly skewed by an industry that has it wrong, that never asked the consumer. I am sure there are several plastic-bros that will disagree with me, but the nape, the tender flesh hidden by hair, is so much more alluring than a set of inflatable double Ds which are completely demystified by an in-your-face culture that has been putting tits on display to sell products since there was an open market, but the nape…oh the nape is sexy, sultry, and it deserved it’s time in the moon light.

For the record, we are far less concerned with the size of your breast or your weight than whether or not you are fun to be around. Sure we have preferences, but I have yet to meet a breast I wouldn't play with.

Music is Life

Seems like forever since I have done a blog, not a rehashing of poetry or a written advertisement for an upcoming show, but actually let you know where my head has been. As the title would indicate, for me, music is life. I say that knowing that in reality work occupies over 70 percent of my time these days, but this blog is not about that. This blog is the fantasy where I convince you all I am super cool and artsy and totally ignore the fact that I am every much the rat in the cage that you are, paying my time to the florescent light waterboarding just like you do, have the same daily debate…to go in or not to go in, that is the question. Sadly, mine always ends in to go in. I am not sure I have ever actually taken a sick day. At any rate, this is not about that. This is about music because music is life.

So my recent string of shows kicked off in August with a pretty fantastic roadtrip to NOLA (New Orleans, LA for the non-hip *smiles*) to see Death Cab For Cutie. There are a few things what would make an adventure such as this Amazing. The obvious two are NOLA, which I am absolutely in love with, and Death Cab. I mean my last band, So Much Closer, took its name from a Death Cab song. For those that never knew that, here is a video of Transatlanticism where the name came from.



The other reason would be my roadtrip companions. As you would expect, Stephanie was there, but we were joined by Julie and Kelly. I am not quite sure how I ended up on a roadtrip with 3 girls or why none of their significant others seemed to mind. I guess I am “that” guy. I can hear the discussions at home, “But it’s just Eric.” “Oh, well then in that case you have my blessing.” In the end, I’d rather be “that” guy than the guy that you don’t trust your girl around because he is super smarmy, and you never know when he is gonna cross the line.



Five days after the roadtrip, So Much Closer was playing its last show at Old Rock House. It was bitter sweet for sure. I loved So Much Closer, loved the originality of our sound, our diversity, and had a blast gigging with the guys, but sometimes things just have to end.



The next morning I was on a plane to California to see Amos Lee. In truth I was going to see my mom, but Amos and the desire to avoid holiday travel were the catalysts. I had decided early on that I was not going to travel over the holidays this year. Without a doubt it is the worst time to go anywhere, the airports are insane, everyone is on edge, weather is always a factor, and you miss out on two of the most chill weeks at work. Unless you work at the Post Office, UPS, FedEx, or some other delivery service, no one does shit around the holidays. But what do we do? We sacrifice a couple weeks of catch-up and decompression to fight crowds, screaming babies, lost grandparents, longing lovers, and home-bound college kids all trying to get to the tree together, to unwrap shiny new things together. Well not me, not this year. I am going to breathe deep and think fondly of the time I got to spend with my family, while nuking a microwave meal (that is a lie, one of my amazing friends will have me over for dinner).

My love of music definitely comes from my mom, and while our tastes are not exactly alike, we both share an affinity for soulful artists, and there are few that are doing it better than Amos Lee. When I was putting together my mom’s iPod, Amos was the first artist I added. She has been a fan ever since. To be able to take her to a show at Humphrey’s, to get the amazing suite, dinner, and concert package, felt great. After all she did for me growing up, her continued sacrifice to raise two kids by herself, to play mother and father and warden when necessary, to deal with the bullshit of two bad kids (and trust me Twyla and I were not saints), I love that I am in a place now where I can do for her.

In a weird turn of events, Mom ended up coming back to Missouri with me, and since it was LouFest weekend, well she got to live the rockstar life; we’ll call it Rockstar Life Light. I was definitely conscious of not staying out too late, no after parties, etc., but we stayed on the move and had a great time at LouFest. My favorite moments of the festival were QuestLove’s set and Ume’s set.



Since Mom has been back in Cali, I have lost track of the shows I have gone to. I know there was Larkin Poe at the Old Rock House, AUCW at the Firebird, The Features and Robert Cray at Old Rock House, and Controlled Fires at the Luna Lounge, but I think there were more. Let’s just say I have been staying busy, and I have no complaints about that.

Since I haven’t been doing much writing outside of my #MicroPoetry, I wanted to give you a little gem I came across while cleaning out my iTunes. Here is me covering “Home” by Michael Buble. I totally forgot I recorded this. Enjoy!

Home by Buble covered by Eric Ketzer by SoMuchCloser

#MicroPoetry Overload // June - August 2011

What is micro poetry you ask?

Well it is poetry for the ADD generation, poetry for the Social Media sluts offering up there minds, souls, and hearts to anyone that will read their 140 characters, or less. It is something I was introduced to by my good friend and fellow writer, Caroline Slee. Cara and I met in high-school, but our pens were lovers before we were born. Despite living states away for the majority of our relationship, we seem to always be able to find comfort in each others writings. I saw her making #micropoetry posts on Twitter back in May, and by the end of June I was all in. For me, it provides an opportunity to give life to the words inside my head, words that do not have time to materialize into a full-blown poem but may have enough poetic merit to justify a quick tweet.

Recently another high-school friend and writer (I know cool people, what can I say), Karen Greene, encouraged me to capture my #micropoetry posts, which I had not been doing. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right.

This is a culmination of all of my #micropoetry tweets from June through August. I have stripped them of their Twitter formatting, so they feel more like Tiny Poetry. Hope you enjoy!

And you
With permanent eyes
Gaze at me
Like you found something familiar

And I
Tired eyes
Watch your chest rise and fall
Pray we'll share this sunrise

I do not trust this sky
Opaque clouds blacken horizon where you should live
You have forsaken us

My fingers
Tangled in tangles
Your fingers
Attached to back
Our lips lust locked

And I
Live in the space between stillness and chaos
And you
Stare at me from the fringes

World before windshield
Flush with curves and empty lanes
Darkness in rear view

Sunshine warms cement
Clouds splinter the sky
Children pray for explosions

And I
Woke with the manufactured image
Of me inside you
And your face
As I moved deeper

With exhausted eyes
I navigate the morning by feel
Like a blind man absent cane

You
Full of intent
Look at me with daisy eyes
And I return the smile

Thickening self
Still wearing a ring of your lipstick
Greets the morning before eyes can say hello

As rotations of sun
Quick and uncontrollable
Create blurred horizons
I lean on friends
Find myself in their eyes

Your kiss
While welcome in winter
Saddens in summer
Burns limbs
Blinds eyes
Brings beads that fall from foreheads

Your words
Ride fissures
Hang on neurons
Float between synaps3
Land on receptors that make me feel

Open eyes to empty space
The sacred place where your head should be
Left untouched
For you

In completion of another rotation around the sun
A full Cancer moon smiles down on me
And I am content

My summer hand
Caressing your sun starved skin
Beneath blue hue bedroom light

Buried beneath Blankets
Eyes find peephole
Investigation produces reassurance
Morning is here

Your body
Parallel to ground
Moves with abandon
Contracts
Pulls emotions inward
Releases
Effortless

Sun
An arm's length away
Shrinks pupils
Cooks skin
Controls days
Oppresses

Palms
Nervous
Fingers
Tangled
Footsteps try to find shared rhythm
Arms sway in new love unison

Your fight befuddles me
Cries of proletariat fall on deaf ears
As you hold tight ill-conceived convictions

Foreign flavors
Touch tongue
Send shimmers
Evoke emotions
Produce pleasure

I dream of Silence
Like I heard that time in Alaska
One thousand yards of separation
Snow swallowing sound
Silence

Pinned to mattress
Immobile
Eyelids cemented shut
Ears deaf to inane buzzing
Mind in deep reflection
Exhausted

You
With intoxicating eyes and dazzling smile
Me
With fluttering senses and short breath
Dance in silence

And I
Awake
Moon high
Shades drawn
Streets empty
Embrace morning
Like a friend I am happy to see

And you who taught me to taste
Bring warm smiles with your antics and laughter
Make me grateful to know you

And you whose eyes have seen the same seas
Held me when I collapsed
Became family

And you who road my rollercoaster with me
Screams pulled from lungs to mouth
Now teach me to live calm

Close eyes with you on my mind
Your journey
Peak to valley to summit
Your strength
Your love
Inspires

Speechless moment
Three deep in recovery dreams
I trapped between solid yellow and broken white
Thought of you

I close my eyes in reflection
As the city beneath the sea stitches another memory on my heart
Forever binding us

I
Try to silence the head words
They
Only quiet when eyes close
Wake restless and loud

You who have seen my zenith and my nadir
Understand my orbit
Predict my course like plotting ancient charts

And you
Who can make me laugh in silence
Understand
The key to Forever is found in my smile

Waking
Sounds of Earth's energy and her magnificent light show
Calms
Makes me want to lie here for days

And I question it all
37
Functioning like I am 21 with more money
Working more than living
Living instead of sleeping
Empty

Painted sky
Smoke dissipates into desert canvas
Gentle burn of morning joe
AC units prepare for rise of Day's eye

Returning to the womb
I am reminded of the me apart from we
The streets haunted and words written
The birth of man

Silence
Interrupted by shuffling feet on morning tiles
Returns
When lights dim and bedrooms are full

You stalk me when eyes close
A face I cannot escape
A name I cannot place
You stare at me like I should know

I will miss bustling mornings with no agenda
Returning, instead, to the silent rush of a schedule dictated by tasks

With head on pillow I contemplate chess
Aggressive offense absent forethought reveals weakness
I attempt to evade Mate

And I look for your face
The face that haunts me
In the Red Face Sea
You a ghost

Sunburned masses
Migrate from Blue to Orange
While early risers occupying middle ground flip chairs in unison

I am happy
When daydreams of stage lights and audiences partaking in the communion of music
Hush white noise and routine

You with ancient finger and sad limbs
Tap my window
Let me know the barren season is near
Days of summer fade

Alright, now that you have read them, I do want to clarify one thing about me as a writer. The ubiquitous "You" is rarely an actual person, rather an ideal, a construct. However, there are definitely poems in this batch that are directed to a person. I did a series for my friends, so they would know how much they meant to me, but for the most part they aren't about anyone in particular. So as much as your inquiring mind would like to read into the salacious matters of my life, just know you are probably wrong.

Yes It Is True...

I kind of dropped a bomb Friday night at the gig. It is true, that was our second to last show. So Much Closer's final gig will be August 19th at the Old Rock House. After the discussion there was a bit of a flurry on Twitter.





I did provide one answer:



However, I know you deserve more. I am sure many of you are hoping for some juicy details, stories of debauchery and drug use. Maybe Logan slept with Enright’s girlfriend, or while Swan was doing jail time he picked up a nasty Meth habit, but, sadly, none of that happened, not even some AA time for Logan and his Ice House addiction. The reality is we are just moving in different directions. Swan approached the band back in May and asked us not to book any additional shows. As you may or may not know, he joined Union Tree Review as a “fulltime” member about a year ago, I guess. Over the past year scheduling conflicts have caused us to cancel a tour, miss practices, and decline gigs, so we kind of saw the writing on the wall. He also wants to start doing some writing, and he should. He is a great musician and has an amazing voice. There is no reason he shouldn’t be fronting his own band. So with 3 potential projects, something had to give, and it was So Much Closer. At that time, I asked the Enright and Logan if we wanted to push on as a 3 piece, try to find a replacement, or call it (I was hoping for push on as a three piece…in my mind the less schedules I had to deal with the better, and I have always loved the space and freedom a 3 piece affords). Ultimately Enright pulled the plug. What I write has never been Enright’s thing. While we share some middle ground with Tom Waits and Smashing Pumpkins, most of the bands I love he doesn’t care about, and most of the bands he is into I have never heard of, so he, rightfully so, is going to look for a project that is more aligned with his interests. We used to joke about who would break-up the band first, and my money was always on Enright. I mean I wouldn’t want to play music I just kind of liked, as opposed to loved. In the end, there are no hard feelings, lots of shared love for each other, just time to move on.

The worst part about this break-up is we are just hitting our stride; we have settled in and finally found our distinct voice. I cannot count how many people told us our set on Friday was the best they had ever heard us play. Really it is like any relationship. We are just getting to the good sex. Sure new sex is hot, all lust filled and passionate, but at times it is sloppy. You’re breaking lamps and falling off of beds, hitting the wrong buttons at the wrong time and trying to recover; you spend too much time fucking on floors and tables to really enjoy it, but after a year or so, you settle in…you learn how to make your bodies talk together, learn the sounds, the unspoken language…you’ve moved into exploration, and you feel safe enough to spontaneously introduce your desires. Friday was a perfect example of how we have developed and matured, and this video filmed by Jarred Gastreich captures us in our prime.

So Much Closer - Palace Doors from Jarred Gastreich on Vimeo.

So what happens now?

Well, you support Swan and Union Tree Review. We all wait to see what Enright gets himself into, and I do what I always do, build another band and play solo shows in the interim. Well, Chris is gonna continue to play with me, so they will be duo shows, but you should know by now I will never stop playing.

The Multiple Lives of Beekeepers

Beekeepers, the new release by My Molly, finally found its way into my dash on Tuesday, and it did not leave all week, not until today when I took it inside to load onto my iPod. As a matter of fact its layers are surrounding me as I write this. By Wednesday I knew I needed to write about this CD, to do my part to spread the word because it is too good to be ignored, to sit on some sagging shelf filled with CDs of hungry artists seeking validation, to be ignored by a scene that is often so busy convincing itself how open-minded and awesome it is that it fails to realize that it is actually very cliquish and exclusive. But what is on this plastic spinning miracle defies clique maintenance, bridges borders, crosses gaps, and brings worlds together. Still I was struggling with what words to use. With all the adjectives floating from Broca’s Area to Frontal Lobe I chose two to focus on: Epic and Multiple Lives.




Beekeepers feels like an epic, and by epic I am not referring to Barney Stinson, rather Beowulf. In great epics themes had numeric patterns, often religious numbers 3, 4, 7, etc. Whether intentional or not, Beekeepers has these patters. In “Bad Things” they place the listener in the woods, dark woods, frightening woods, the woods that made us tremble when we were children.

These trees are alive and smiling their teeth that are made of bark are sharp. Our feet are black and blistered from running through these dark woods.

Instantly I am trust into memories of me too deep into an exploration, lost, confused, crying, and praying God would get me home. Then during “Witches” (6 songs later or 3 songs and 3 songs) they bring us back to the woods accept this time they validate our fears.

I was racing late at night through Salem’s autumn woods.

But they don’t want to hurt us; they want to love us, so three songs later in “Circuit Sunsets” they paint the woods in a different light:

I kept an eye on animals passing through long waving grass in a motion much like dance. I threw my shoes on a telephone line where laces intertwined by a dark wood soft romance.

Now my mind finds me in the same woods where first kisses happened beneath conifers as sunlight fought leaves and needles to find young bodies exploring touch and taste. Three times the woods are mentioned each time separated by values of three. Again, this could all be coincidence, but intentional or not the varying patterns make Beekeepers interesting, help give it multiple lives.

A CD having multiple-lives is as much about production as it is about the songwriting. Some serious credit needs to be given to Brian Sowinski. As I stated earlier I have listened to this CD all week. Each time I hear something new. That is the sign of a good recording to me. It wasn’t until listen #3 when I realized there was mandolin on “Knitting with Penelope.” It had perfect placement in the mix where my ears heard it as part of the composition, but it wasn’t begging for attention like a jealous little child wanting to play airplane. Situationally it also takes on different forms. When the I was driving with the top down the vocals and rhythm were perfectly balance so I could hear them above the wind whipping about. When the rains came and I had to put the top up, I could hear the truly focused instrumentation and layers. Even today listening to it for the first time with a sub I am pleasantly surprised with the thickness of the bass lines. They have excellent tone and enough movement to contribute without distracting.

By now I am sure you think I have lost all objectivity, that because my history with My Molly and my previous declarations of admiration and adoration I am not hearing the faults with the CD, and you would be wrong. There are a couple sour notes, an instance or two when I may have blown out the tracks to ensure everyone was hitting the one after a break. There was one spot where I would have picked a different instrument to lead in from a break, but then I asked myself would any of that make the CD better? Absolutely not. It is just some picky bullshit that ears that have been doing this for almost half their lives hear, and while it may improve that tiny moment it would not improve the CD.

Having grown up with vinyl I certainly appreciate the hipster trend to drop recordings on LPs, but what I have always loved about CDs is they allow you to experience the creation in its entirety without interruption to flip the record or tape. There is no longer a differentiation between A side and the dreaded B side where tracks go to die, now everything must be good. Rather than dropping 6 great songs upfront and then letting the CD disintegrate into dribble, Beekeepers is a slow build with recurring themes that climaxes on the second to last song then gently holds you for one final track, letting you know you are not alone. I encourage all that buy this CD to give yourself an hour to hear it from first act through finale, and I encourage you all to buy it.

That being said, we all have favorites and for different reasons I have two. With the blessings of Morning Bird Records and My Molly, I have been given permission to share those two with you. “Fission and Fusion” is the most vulnerable song on Beekeepers from the first line they expose their hearts, allow us to see through the stories, the adventures, to really feel what they are feeling without metaphor cloaking their intent.

Well I warned you I told you so, that you could leave it up to me to make an unresolvable mess out of everything. The sun and moon were in your eyes, and now that you’re gone I’ll sleep alone tonight.

Fission And Fusion by My Molly

There was some mild debate going on between me and the head of Morning Bird Records, Abi Robins. I was cemented to “Fission and Fusion” as the best song, and she tied herself to “Tie Me to the Mast” for her pick. While I am always going to pick raw emotion, I cannot deny that the sweeping harmonies in “Tie Me to the Mast” are without a doubt my favorite musical moment on Beekeepers. For that reason it gets a shared spot for favorite track on the CD.

Tie Me To The Mast by My Molly

I hope you enjoyed the songs and seriously encourage you to purchase this CD and see My Molly whenever you get a chance.

Sleep Walking at 15,000 Angels

Often the best part of travel for me is the plane rides, not the moments leading up to the plane rides but the actual flights, the moments when I am able to close my eyes and bathe myself in music. While music seems to be somewhat omnipresent in my life, it is often obstructed by my need to think. On a plane I am completely carefree, having relinquished control of the situation to higher powers and some guy that has only had 6 hours of sleep in the last 36, whose breath still smells of whiskey and the flight attendant’s breasts.

Awe shit, what just happened there, I am two stanzas away from a Penthouse Forum post, and I was supposed to be talking about music. Let's get back to that.

I had the opportunity to go to San Francisco this week which afforded me several hours of unobstructed listening time. I chose to swim in sounds that I knew would make me feel. I have never shied away from feeling. Actually I tend to embrace it, proudly tattooed myself with a purple tear drop signifying my reliance on emotions. Above thoughts and talent, emotions are what make me me. The worst part of my divorce was not the loss of her but the loss of me. This is a very strange concept to discuss because it is not physical. There is nothing specific that can be used to convey what happened to me after my divorce. The best way I have found to describe it is to say I was dead inside. I realize how awful that sounds, but in truth that is where I was. It is something I still struggle with some seven years later when I feel like I am sleepwalking (that word is going to become even more relevant in a few moment, so hang in there with me) through life, when I am not sure I will ever feel again, but then I turn to music and it stirs me in ways that help me realize I am alive and well. I may have built some walls to protect myself, but beneath the castles fortress I am as I have always been, tender, sensitive, and full of love and life.

In an effort to catapult myself over the walls, I listened to a lot of duets during the flights, something about the harmonies and the stories really helps me to feel the music. Here are a few that really resonated with me.

“Falling – the Civil Wars”



“Rootless Tree – Damien Rice w/ Lisa Hannigan”



“Low Rising – the Swell Season”



I could probably bury you in videos, but I would end up posting so many that you would be overwhelmed and end up not watching any of them. So, I’ll stop there and leave you with this poem I wrote as a response to the music and head words bouncing from frontal lobe to limbic system.

“Sleepwalking at 15,000 Angels”

As I listen to voices
Dance between melody
Always in harmony
I close eyes
Picture your face
Your smile
Its energy could fuel this mechanical bird
Floating between clouds and ground
Suspended between streams
Particles unseen but felt
Like spirits hold me
When I close eyes
Picture your face

But I am sleepwalking
Living in mind moments
Consumed by two dimensions
Unable to build bridges
Escape routes
Freedom tunnels
Rich
Vibrant
Graffiti
Guiding
Propelling

But I am sleepwalking
Numb
Flat
Darkness
Frightens
My only light
Your smile
When I close eyes
Picture your face

I Cannot Thank You Enough - Gig Recap

Throughout my career as a musician I have had the pleasure of meeting and playing with many great bands from other states. When I really like someone I will buy their CD(s) with the intent of following their careers and keeping in touch with them. Inevitably life happens and it is not long before their CDs are collecting dust on a very full CD rack, and the random appearance of a song on an iPod shuffle serves as a reminder of a great night of music in a life filled with these moments. Thankfully my experience with Patrick Bloom has been different.

Patrick and I met back in 2006 when Whiskey Daydream was just getting started. His band came down from Iowa for a show at Cicero’s and we were fortunate to open for them. I got a CD that night, and I have been a fan ever since…now my parents are fans…my friends are fans…and Patrick and I are friends. I have been up to Iowa to share the stage with him, and tonight he came down to St. Charles to grace us with an amazing night of music.

Why is it different with Patrick? A couple of reasons, first he is the embodiment of everything that I love about music. I cannot listen to one of his songs without finding a line in it that I wish I would have written. He is a writer’s songwriter. As a poet first songwriter, I hang on his words like a child clinging to his father’s shoulders on his first piggyback. Second, he is a great person. All too often these meetings are based on façade, band member’s stroking egos in hope of finding a friend to guide them through the tumultuous seas of the industry, but with Patrick and I the respect is mutual, genuine, and the relationship extends beyond words and music.

Here is Patrick playing my favorite song of his, “Brooklyn.” Enjoy!



Of course I played this evening as well. This is me doing “Feel the Sun.”



Before I close out of this post, I need to thank everyone for coming out. Seriously every aspect of my last 13 years in Missouri was represented: Jeff (my best friend and college roommate) and Patricia…folks from Verizon where I worked post Bachelor’s. People I currently work with. My morning workout buddies. Matt Kury from Revence who I have known since I was in EKe. Benjamin Ash who was in Whiskey Daydream with me. My Twitter peeps: Meredith, Jane, Louis, and Karen…my core crew: Stephanie, Julie, Vinnie, Jen, JT, and of course Ryan, Laura, and Aurora. It was amazing to see everyone, and I am so thrilled you came out for this show. I know I play way too much for my own good, so it is hard to come to all my gigs, but I was terrified Patrick would drive all the way down here to play for 7 people, but you packed the place, and I cannot thank you enough.

I love you all!

How Twitter Made April More Awesome…

Before getting into this, I wanted to let you know I did question whether or not it was appropriate to create a post exclaiming April was awesome when the same month brought storms that ravaged the majority of the Southeast and caused some serious damage in St. Louis and St. Charles County, which is where I live. What has happened is terrible. The lives lost in Alabama are shocking and disheartening, but it is events like I am about to talk about that help me to deal with tragedy, so I press on.

If you are a regular reader, you know that April = Awesome and was stacked with an amazing assortment of concerts. I was on-tap to enjoy at least four; however, before the calendar flipped to May, I was fortunate to have gone to 6 shows, two of them because of Twitter.

For those that do not know The Civil Wars, you should. They were coming to one of my all time favorite venues, the Old Rock House, but before I realized I was not alone in my obsession for Joy Williams and John Paul White’s breath-stealing harmonies, the show sold out. I fretted about it for a few days, and then started posting tons of The Civil Wars tunes on Twitter to console myself for missing this opportunity.



Without expectation, a friend from Twitter, Adam Houston, who I had recently met in real life (IRL as the cool kids call it), popped into my feed letting me know he had an extra ticket. Originally another one of our friends had claimed it, but her husband could not attend, so she offered it up. I jumped on it like Tigger jumps on Pooh. Aside from a gaggle of Wooh! Girls and their Bro boyfriends that thought it was completely acceptable to talk and cackle through the performance, it was amazing.

After seeing Company of Thieves (Yes I chose them over the Decemberists and Wakey! Wakey! and they did not disappoint) this Wednesday, I thought my concert going was over for the month, then I received a rather ominous DM (Direct Message for those that still scoff at Twitter).




Matt Riding is someone I have been following since the beginning but had never met IRL. He is a major player in the Social Media circuit, and while the bulk of our on-line conversations have been about music, we have had some professional exchanges as well. With that post coming in in the middle of the workday, I was a bit concerned that something had gone wrong and needed immediate attention, as Matt isn’t one to randomly DM me. I skeptically replied…



As it turns out, Matt had a spare ticket to Tift Merritt and Stephen Kellogg at, again, the Old Rock House. Admittedly I had never heard of Stephen Kellogg, but I have a few of Tift Merritt's CDs, so I was all over it. They both played acoustic, no band, just voice and 6 strings, and it was unbelievable.



If you seriously want to go to an amazing acoustic show, go to the Old Rock House for one of their Listening Room Series. The venue is PERFECT for singer/songwriters. When they first opened, I played there, solo, every Sunday for a few months, and I was always amazed at the sound of the room, even pushed it fully unplugged a couple of times. While rock shows are also great there, I am excited to see they are also using the room to display its natural gifts.

The video I shot off my phone was weak, but I found this one YouTube so you could get an idea of what Tift was like live.



All this talk of singer/songwriters and acoustic music reminded me that my friend Patrick Bloom is coming in town from Iowa to play the St. Charles Coffee House with me this Saturday, May 7th. It’s a pretty hefty drive to come down from Iowa, so I really want to pack this place. If you are reading this, please come to the show and bring some folks. I guarantee the music will leave your heart feeling warm and loved, and the coffee will keep your mind up for hours (Note: fear not they do have a nice selection of beer and wine).

See you all on Saturday!

Casualty of Conflict - Taylor Comes Home

Taylor, my angel, was a casualty of conflict, a prisoner of war, and by war I mean a fairly amicable divorce between two people that loved each other, respected each other, and didn’t want to hurt each other. Like any child, Taylor was the one piece of the separation that we could not agree on, and ultimately I caved, a decision I have regretted since 2004.

Taylor, you see, was my 1996 Taylor 412. I purchased her from my good friend Rob Woerther for $500 back in 2000, right after Angela and I were married.



For those that are wondering, did your ex play guitar? The answer is no. For those that just shook your heads in disgust, thinking why the hell would she take your guitar, I will explain. At the time, Angela was interested in learning to play guitar, and I needed a second acoustic for live shows so I could keep one tuned to DADGAD which is an alternate tuning that I often use when writing songs. That being said, in the 4 years we were married, she played the guitar for a grand total of 11 hours, 17 minutes, and 34 seconds. I may have been a bit generous there. While I understand that she wants to learn to play, if you are living with a musician who is more than willing to teach you, and you don’t do it, you are never going to learn. In her mind it was her Taylor because she was bought, in part, so she could learn to play. In my mind, she was my kid. I was the one that held her when she cried, changed her diapers, kept her hydrated and fed…she was my go to guitar. I wrote 3 albums on her, toured over 8 states with her. She is me.



However, when it came down to it, I turned my back on her to keep the peace. I mean she is just a guitar, right? I have tons of them. Well, the problem is, of all my guitars, Taylor is my favorite. I even have another Taylor. It is a 410CE from the same year, but there is something about this guitar. Maybe it’s the combination of Rob’s energy and mine that has seeped into her beautiful mahogany. I don’t know. She is just a very special.



To her credit, Angela offered to let me buy her several times over the years, but I wouldn’t do it. It was a matter of principle for me. She was my guitar, like paying to sleep with your own wife (yeah, I know what I just said…it made sense in my head. I am just going to leave it alone), but I just could not find a replacement. The number of guitars that I have bought and sold in an attempt to replace this beauty is staggering…seriously. At one point, I bought a brand new Taylor 412ce. I mean it is the SAME. GUITAR. Right? No. Again, there is something special about her.

As you may or may not know, Angela now works at my office (yes, I knew she was applying, even helped her through the process and served as a reference…we have never not been cool to one another, this is the kind of people we are). We bump into each other from time to time, so sometime around September I decided I needed Taylor back. I just couldn’t be without her, like she had been held in some P.O.W. camp, and I was determined to free her at any cost (well any may be a stretch). Angela and I went back and forth. I told her what she was worth; she had some “people” give her an assessed value; I busted out the Blue Book value on her, and it seemed like we were at a stalemate. But I had to MalcomX the situation, by any means necessary. So a couple of weeks ago I shot her one final offer. The text read, “$XXX (all you need to know is I bought her back for more than we paid for her) for Taylor…what say you.” She took a few days to respond. I had almost lost hope, but she rolled into to my office on Monday to let me know we had a deal. Taylor came home on Thursday, and I couldn’t be happier.

Rather than post a poem, I thought I would post a video so you could hear her. I recorded this this afternoon. Thought it would be good closure. "Picture Frame" was written on Taylor a few months after my divorce. Enjoy.

April = Awesome

For those in the winter weather weary Midwest you probably think that this blog is the official announcement of sunshine's arrival. Well, you are wrong. Not that I am not stoked about Old Man Winter going into hibernation for several months, but this post is about the alignment of stars, about all things that are great in this world, including Cool-Whip and Cherries, taking the passenger seat to the Month of Rock.

Without a doubt this April features the best line-up of shows I have ever seen in one month, so I thought I would do a little video collage of the concerts I will be attending.

Up first Queens of the Stone Age at the Pageant. Unless you have your tickets, you are out of luck...SOLD OUT!!! This concert is extra special for a couple reasons. 1) It is my first time seeing QotSA 2) I graduated high-school with the lead singer, Josh Homme. I know you all just thought, how is this your first QotSA show then? Well, I was actually a bigger fan of Josh's first band Kyuss. That was the band I grew up with, the band I saw at generator parties in high-school, the band I listened to every time I took a trip from San Diego to Palm Desert.

Now, were Josh and I good friends, absolutely not. In fact the last time I bumped into him was when I was home on leave from bootcamp. I approached him to tell him that I saw the video for Green Machine, and I thought it was awesome. He was a total cocky ass. But whatevs, I am quite sure he would have no idea who I was today. We played football together, and maybe had two classes together. But, it is still cool to know that you can accomplish what he did with his life, and the reality is, as a musician, I have the utmost respect for his playing, producing, and for the fact that he essentially created a new genre of music called Stoner Rock.

Year book photos:



"Go with the Flow"



Flowing up this rockfest we have the 1st Annual Pajammy Jam. I put together a great line-up of performers: Brian Sowinski, Loza, and of course my band So Much Closer, the Koken is a super cool space, and my good friend Vinnie Saletto is running sound. Plus our friends My Molly are going to be joining us for two songs. SO COOL!!!

Flyer:



This show is NOT sold out, and actually we could really use some support. I mean you get to wear your pajamas, who doesn't love that? Here is a little commercial we made for it.



The following Thursday, April 14th, the Damnwells are coming to town. I think my love for this band has been made very clear through the course of this blog. If you somehow missed it, read the Epic Roadtrip '09 series. Trust me, if you are in St. Louis, and want to see a great show, you will want to come to Off Broadway on the 14th.

"Werewolves"




April 22nd has me over at the Old Rock House for the Black Angels. I am new to the Black Angels, but the Old Rock House just implemented one of the coolest things any venue has done, local musicians, in current bands, can get in free to any show at ORH. To say I am going to be spending a lot of time at this venue is an understatement. I have asked them to just put a cot up for me.



On April 27th I am in a HUGE quandary. I have a ticket to go to the Pageant for the sold out The Decemberists show, but there is a conflicting show at Off Broadway that has Company of Thieves on the bill. It is hard to say for sure, but Company of Thieves probably put on my favorite show I saw all of last year, and seeing them at Off Broadway would be amazing...What. To. Do.


The Decemberists "Down by the Water"



Company of Thieves "Oscar Wilde"



If someone can please let me know what they would do about the 27th, I would really appreciate it. Here is to an AWESOME April!!!

**Update**
SHIT!!! I just remembered Wakey! Wakey! is going to here on the 27th too. I think the booking Agents need to start working together this is crazy. Three shows I would LOVE to attend all on the same night. DAMN!!!

"War Sweater"