Wednesday, February 14, 2007
So long goodnight, forfeit any fight...
Strange how a simple color can lead to nostalgia. How a shade or hue can have some faintly recognizable link to events, to a feeling, to a state of mind. How yellows, oranges, dark reds and the like will remind you of being younger, comfortable, care-free. Of bad pop music performed by dudes with horrible haircuts, of tacky terra-cota cups bought at roadside artisan shops on the way back from the country, of yellow sweaters, airports and kids that aren't you. And what of patio screened doors, gigantic (or what seemed like gigantic to your tiny self) in-ground swimming pools complete with diving boards and buoys? What of renting b-grade japanese Godzilla movies at a video store bearing a huge crown-wearing elephant as its effigy? Do you remember buying those Dick Tracy collectible cards that came with a stick of bubble gum? They were sold at the corner store that seemed worlds away to your tiny legs. Outside the corner store was a small fruit and vegetable market were people gathered to buy rutabagas or whatever strange turnip you wouldn't dare eat, convinced it tasted terrible. The people also talked about the weather and exchanged stories, but you were too concerned with running back home to beg for another shiny dollar to buy another pack of trading cards to pay attention to them. And why does yellow have anything to do with any of this, you ask? I wouldn't know. The same goes for orange or dark red, but that link is invariably there, you cannot deny it. How could you deny such a perfectly obvious connection? Is that connection leading you to other thoughts now? Of how lovely a certain someone looked to you after not having seen them in a month, the first time you saw that someone wearing her lovely new winter coat that she insists isn't that great because "everyone" has one just like it? Maybe, just maybe, in your ridiculous little head this is associated to christmas lights and to Dio's Holy Diver. You know very well how that association was made don't you? Then please, don't fret over how a few colors came to be associated with a flood of ideas; you're just too old and far removed from it all to remember. This is just like how pretty girls, christmas lights and metal classics will be pretty thinly linked at some point down the line, though you may not want them to be. Colors are a peculiar thing.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
There's no big bang and there's no big mess
I've been known to do stupid things or undertake gambles that I should not dare contemplate. Last night, as me and Max parted ways with Vince at Mexicali Rosa's, I exclaimed 'Oh yeah, I've got at least enough gas left in my car to take us to Casselman. We'll gas up there." As it turns out, my claim was correct. As we approached Casselman, I was beaming with pride, happy to see that my barely-considered presumption was turning to fact. What I did not bank on however, was that a mess of cones and construction work would confuse the hell out of me and make me drive right past the much-sought-after exit. As the reality of what had just happened settled in, I thought to myself: 'alright, this is a minor setback. If I made it this far, I can surely make it to the next exit." This is where things go slightly awry and my idiotic assumptions turn to... well, idiocy.
My car runs out of gas, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Fun. So me and Max do the only thing we can do: we start walking to the next town with our arms extended and our thumbs shooting up to the sky. A few minutes go by and a moderately large transport truck stops on the side of the road abit up ahead of us. As we hastened our pace and set out towards the red glare of the truck's rear lights, we contemplated the scenarios that could potentially unfold as we'd open that cabin hatch and greet the faceless person inside. We arrived at the conclusion that friends should never ever hitch-hike together, because you never know when some sicko will pull a gun on you and force you to give your friend a blowjob as payment for the 'ride.' This would, without a doubt, ruin a pretty good friendship, but I digress. As we climbed into the truck, we weren't greeted by a depraved sex-fiend, nor by a machete-wielding maniac or any of the other uninspired stereotypes that we'd pitched on our brief trek to salvation. Nah, it was just a terribly nice, mild-mannered old man delivering newspapers to Montreal. He gladly gave us a lift to the next town over, which happened to be Maxville. We talked about the weather and gas prices. It was classic.
We were deposited at a gas station; an Esso if I am not mistaken. Now we needed fuel, this much was certain. We walked into the store area, identified the clerk and asked him if we could buy a gas container. He told us they didn't have any more, which was definitely a problem seeing as we weren't going to run back to the car with mouthfuls of fuel, nor were we going to do the old hand-cup trick. So we did what any self-respecting young men would do: we rummaged through garbage bins in search of makeshift containers. My fuck up and fate had reduced us to the level of raccoons. After a bit of fruitless foraging, we struck gold by finding a cage filled with empty windshield washer containers. Me and Max each grabbed one and pumped a few litres of our coveted substance into them. After paying, we walked back to the highway, plastic jug filled with gas in one hand, Kinder Bueno in the other. As we got to the highway on-ramps, Max picthed a brilliant idea. He suggested we run all the way across the highway, and then attempt to hitch-hike back to the car. And run we did, only to find ourselves in a pinch when we realized that both sides of the highway were separated by a treacherous swamp... a dark, treacherous and murky swamp. After much struggling, we emerged on the other side clutching our precious liquid, feet and pants drenched in gross highway swamp water. We resumed our walking and signaling. It wasn't long before a small firefly-esque car pulled up to the side. The usual debate about what exhuberantly gruesome method of murder would be employed against us by the car's driver was had.
As we sat down in the tiny automobile, the man in the driver's seat greeted us: 'Hi guys, I'm G but you can call me Che... As in Che Guevarra, he's my idol. You guys really smell like gas.' As it turns out, the man's name was actually Girison. He was a Guatemalan-born naturalized Canadian. He'd escaped Guatemala when he was young, after a stint in the Guatemalan Army. The high levels of repression and unmeasured violence he saw made him crave for better living conditions. He was a contractor who mainly did landscape work, but he'd had a career as a chef before. He also recounted the tale of how he became a homeless man living on the streets of Ottawa after his wife and four children had left him. He picked himself up and out of a life of poverty and hard drugs, started his own landscaping company and became the man he is now. He offered us Cuban cigars, but we declined because our gas covered hands were something of a liabiity, not to mention the fact that neither of us smoke. As we barelled down the highway towards my derelict automobile, our man Girison treated us to ultra-loud Eminem, 50 Cent and Kanye West.
We got to the car and we emptied the contents of the windshield washer containers into the gas tank, spilling quite abit on the ground in the process. Girison waved around a pair of bright orange construction pants at oncoming traffic in the meantime. He was trying to make us visible to oncoming cars so that no one would accidentally run us over while we fumbled around with makeshift gas containers. With the deed done, my car sparked to life and we were ready to resume our return to Montreal. We whole-heartedly thanked Girison for his help and kindness, to which he replied with a wink : 'Don't thank me, thank the big guy up top!' We quietly drove off with a business card for a landscaping company in our hands and a pretty neat story to tell in our heads.
My car runs out of gas, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Fun. So me and Max do the only thing we can do: we start walking to the next town with our arms extended and our thumbs shooting up to the sky. A few minutes go by and a moderately large transport truck stops on the side of the road abit up ahead of us. As we hastened our pace and set out towards the red glare of the truck's rear lights, we contemplated the scenarios that could potentially unfold as we'd open that cabin hatch and greet the faceless person inside. We arrived at the conclusion that friends should never ever hitch-hike together, because you never know when some sicko will pull a gun on you and force you to give your friend a blowjob as payment for the 'ride.' This would, without a doubt, ruin a pretty good friendship, but I digress. As we climbed into the truck, we weren't greeted by a depraved sex-fiend, nor by a machete-wielding maniac or any of the other uninspired stereotypes that we'd pitched on our brief trek to salvation. Nah, it was just a terribly nice, mild-mannered old man delivering newspapers to Montreal. He gladly gave us a lift to the next town over, which happened to be Maxville. We talked about the weather and gas prices. It was classic.
We were deposited at a gas station; an Esso if I am not mistaken. Now we needed fuel, this much was certain. We walked into the store area, identified the clerk and asked him if we could buy a gas container. He told us they didn't have any more, which was definitely a problem seeing as we weren't going to run back to the car with mouthfuls of fuel, nor were we going to do the old hand-cup trick. So we did what any self-respecting young men would do: we rummaged through garbage bins in search of makeshift containers. My fuck up and fate had reduced us to the level of raccoons. After a bit of fruitless foraging, we struck gold by finding a cage filled with empty windshield washer containers. Me and Max each grabbed one and pumped a few litres of our coveted substance into them. After paying, we walked back to the highway, plastic jug filled with gas in one hand, Kinder Bueno in the other. As we got to the highway on-ramps, Max picthed a brilliant idea. He suggested we run all the way across the highway, and then attempt to hitch-hike back to the car. And run we did, only to find ourselves in a pinch when we realized that both sides of the highway were separated by a treacherous swamp... a dark, treacherous and murky swamp. After much struggling, we emerged on the other side clutching our precious liquid, feet and pants drenched in gross highway swamp water. We resumed our walking and signaling. It wasn't long before a small firefly-esque car pulled up to the side. The usual debate about what exhuberantly gruesome method of murder would be employed against us by the car's driver was had.
As we sat down in the tiny automobile, the man in the driver's seat greeted us: 'Hi guys, I'm G but you can call me Che... As in Che Guevarra, he's my idol. You guys really smell like gas.' As it turns out, the man's name was actually Girison. He was a Guatemalan-born naturalized Canadian. He'd escaped Guatemala when he was young, after a stint in the Guatemalan Army. The high levels of repression and unmeasured violence he saw made him crave for better living conditions. He was a contractor who mainly did landscape work, but he'd had a career as a chef before. He also recounted the tale of how he became a homeless man living on the streets of Ottawa after his wife and four children had left him. He picked himself up and out of a life of poverty and hard drugs, started his own landscaping company and became the man he is now. He offered us Cuban cigars, but we declined because our gas covered hands were something of a liabiity, not to mention the fact that neither of us smoke. As we barelled down the highway towards my derelict automobile, our man Girison treated us to ultra-loud Eminem, 50 Cent and Kanye West.
We got to the car and we emptied the contents of the windshield washer containers into the gas tank, spilling quite abit on the ground in the process. Girison waved around a pair of bright orange construction pants at oncoming traffic in the meantime. He was trying to make us visible to oncoming cars so that no one would accidentally run us over while we fumbled around with makeshift gas containers. With the deed done, my car sparked to life and we were ready to resume our return to Montreal. We whole-heartedly thanked Girison for his help and kindness, to which he replied with a wink : 'Don't thank me, thank the big guy up top!' We quietly drove off with a business card for a landscaping company in our hands and a pretty neat story to tell in our heads.
Monday, August 28, 2006
we are the matched and numbered ones who live in constant disrepair
I've been dealing with my recent state of being in the most unsavory of fashions. I'll admit that I've always had a certain penchant for self-destruction with a (not so) healthy dose of deep introspection thrown in, but lately things have gotten out of hand. For the past two weeks I've been seeking out solace at the bottom of a bottle every night and this has become a more than obvious problem for me. Out the door with such nonsense, I say. I need to put myself back together, to glue back the pieces that fell off during this tumble to where I am now. In the face of all that I've been through lately, of what still gnaws at my mind every other minute and of what I stand to go up against with my impending return to Montreal, I need all of my strength, a clear head and a direct perspective on my ambitions. To attain these ambitions certains objectives must however be set. Objectives are a lovely thing. How about we list some of mine right this instant and see if they can be met. I'll stick to strictly short term things for now, because I need to work in the now in order to make things work out later.
1) I need to find a a new job in Montreal as soon as I humanly can. I've been out of work these past two weeks and while I made a fair amount of money working such a ridiculously displeasing job, the above phrases should offer a hint as to where quite abit of that money went. I would like to find something close to home and at least somewhat fulfilling. There's a delightful looking tea house that just opened up the street from me and I think I might just be the Tea house kindof guy. We'll see, but the search gets underway as soon as I am back home.
2) I need to write more. I aim to be a writer and I greatly enjoy writing, therefore it should be natural that I write in a more consistent fashion. I want to get back into writing for the student paper, to try my hand at doing more freelance pieces, to write more about music and even to dabble in expanding my abilities at fiction writing.
3) I need to work on making friends and contacts in my milieu. I realized that I haven't kept contact with any of the people that I attended classes with last semester and I think that this is a shame. For one, I don't know a great deal of people in Montreal and it would be nice to have friends or acquaitances to go have a pint with every once in awhile. Also, in a field such as journalism it helps to have a network of associates with whom you can work in tandem with. Solidarity can go a long way. I need to shed some light on my sympathetic side.
4) I need to try and get back into some form of physical shape. Basketball outings with friends, excursions to the gym and a decent amount of jogging need to be of the order.
5) I'll end with something moderately cliché. I need to take care of matters of the heart. There's something I've been mulling over and debating for too long and it needs to be dealt with. I deeply care for this person and through the absolute mess that has been my life this summer, that is one of the single recurring and stable thoughts I've had. My timing is abit off on this matter considering the changes that are coming in barely a week, but it's never too late for such things.
I'm sure this list will grow as time goes on, but this is a stepping stone or a starting point I guess. I would be ecstatic if I could do things the right way for once.
love.jm
1) I need to find a a new job in Montreal as soon as I humanly can. I've been out of work these past two weeks and while I made a fair amount of money working such a ridiculously displeasing job, the above phrases should offer a hint as to where quite abit of that money went. I would like to find something close to home and at least somewhat fulfilling. There's a delightful looking tea house that just opened up the street from me and I think I might just be the Tea house kindof guy. We'll see, but the search gets underway as soon as I am back home.
2) I need to write more. I aim to be a writer and I greatly enjoy writing, therefore it should be natural that I write in a more consistent fashion. I want to get back into writing for the student paper, to try my hand at doing more freelance pieces, to write more about music and even to dabble in expanding my abilities at fiction writing.
3) I need to work on making friends and contacts in my milieu. I realized that I haven't kept contact with any of the people that I attended classes with last semester and I think that this is a shame. For one, I don't know a great deal of people in Montreal and it would be nice to have friends or acquaitances to go have a pint with every once in awhile. Also, in a field such as journalism it helps to have a network of associates with whom you can work in tandem with. Solidarity can go a long way. I need to shed some light on my sympathetic side.
4) I need to try and get back into some form of physical shape. Basketball outings with friends, excursions to the gym and a decent amount of jogging need to be of the order.
5) I'll end with something moderately cliché. I need to take care of matters of the heart. There's something I've been mulling over and debating for too long and it needs to be dealt with. I deeply care for this person and through the absolute mess that has been my life this summer, that is one of the single recurring and stable thoughts I've had. My timing is abit off on this matter considering the changes that are coming in barely a week, but it's never too late for such things.
I'm sure this list will grow as time goes on, but this is a stepping stone or a starting point I guess. I would be ecstatic if I could do things the right way for once.
love.jm
Monday, August 07, 2006
I'm damaged bad at best
This is it. This is absolute dejection. I don't think I've ever felt this bad, though I'm sure I've been in worse situations in the past. Somehow though, I am devoid of any defense mechanism. I feel utterly hopeless, helpless and without direction. This post is simply to catalogue this feeling. I honestly hope there's nowhere to go but up.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Outside, the unbearable grows
What an absurd being I am. I am an unending cycle, a series of patterns continuously colliding into themselves. But despite having resigned myself to accept this fact, I continue to live through the events that are dropped into my lap with quivering intensity and passion. I am unable to simply be indifferent, to just shrug anything off and carry on with my self-fulfilling existence. I often wonder whether or not I'm at all grateful for this trait of character.
Right now, right this instant as I'm typing this, I hurt. This might be temporary, this might be a reaction to a variety of circumstances or a brief plunge into the more fatalistic parts of my mind, but I'm filled with sadness and regret. I feel like I've wasted another rather extended period of time pursuing something that I could simply not have. I have this strange tendency of falling into these situations and being utterly incapable of dealing with them in an adequate and resolute fashion. I despise my insecurities and my inability to get over what I can only describe as 'ever-looming self-doubt.' May the echo of these words cease before morning.
Right now, right this instant as I'm typing this, I hurt. This might be temporary, this might be a reaction to a variety of circumstances or a brief plunge into the more fatalistic parts of my mind, but I'm filled with sadness and regret. I feel like I've wasted another rather extended period of time pursuing something that I could simply not have. I have this strange tendency of falling into these situations and being utterly incapable of dealing with them in an adequate and resolute fashion. I despise my insecurities and my inability to get over what I can only describe as 'ever-looming self-doubt.' May the echo of these words cease before morning.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
We salute you, oh half-inflated devil lord!
School is done and I am now 22 years of age. Interesting. I really have nothing more to add right now, though I shall leave you with the musings of someone who is infinitely wiser than me and who's words mean a great deal to me.
Will you come and what will I say
Oh I have been so distant and unhappy
Like I could disappear
When I was a boy I saw things
That no one else could see
So why am I so blind at twenty-two
To the hope that is all around me
Filling up this room
On the road on my own
Waiting for the words to fall from your tongue
Into my ears
When I was a boy I could hear
Symphonies in seashells
So why am I so deaf at twenty-two
To the sound of the driving snow
That drives me home to you
Cheers y'all.
Will you come and what will I say
Oh I have been so distant and unhappy
Like I could disappear
When I was a boy I saw things
That no one else could see
So why am I so blind at twenty-two
To the hope that is all around me
Filling up this room
On the road on my own
Waiting for the words to fall from your tongue
Into my ears
When I was a boy I could hear
Symphonies in seashells
So why am I so deaf at twenty-two
To the sound of the driving snow
That drives me home to you
Cheers y'all.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Sappy derivative nonsense
I've felt really hollow these past few days. My existence has been reduced to nothing more than sitting in my apartment and writing papers. Now that's all fine and dandy, I'm a student and that's what students do I suppose. I simply feel uninteresting; I have no great stories to tell, no charming or quirky anecdotes to relate... even the one about how I got this scar above my eye is getting really fucking boring to reiterate. Am I just exhausted? That doesn't seem quite right somehow. I would think a large part of it might be related to my activities as of late. Sure, there's school and that takes up a whole heap load of my time. And then there's... well, nothing much. I'm trying really hard to love Montreal, to belong here, to feel like I've actually created something for myself here. But truth is, I haven't really. I haven't contributed to this city in any substantive way and that irks me considerably. Also, it should be of note that what I wrote back in December is still true today: by and large, I am alone in this city. I barely have any friends and, moreso than before, I believe it's starting to get to me. What might anger me even more is the idea that I won't even get the chance to rectify that problem right away. I'm moving back to Ottawa in less than a month to work some government drone position that'll result in me making mad cash. But I'll just be delaying this painfully long adaptation process even more, and such a thing is frustrating to me. Fuck, I feel dried out. A prof commented on one of my papers a few weeks ago that my writing isn't as fresh or dynamic as it was before Christmas. That actually really got to me. I think he's right, but I definitely lack the means to fix the problem. I want too though. It seems so imperative to me that I get back whatever it is that I lost. I also strongly doubt that, as some people have suggested, time off and a bit of sunshine are all that I need to set things right. I don't know, it seems kindof wrong to attribute such messianic qualities to a time of year. Oh and fuck off, I'm not going anywhere with this. Il pense trop et ne dort jamais assez.
Monday, April 03, 2006
My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder...
He just hopes he was able to make even the slightest impression. He sinks in his seat. His hands typing at the keyboard seem paler and bonier than usual. He wonders how long this entry will be, a few lines or a few paragraphs? He rolls his eyes reading the previous phrase, knowing full well that his eyes are twitching shut because of fatigue and that he has to get up early in order to type up an article. He gets annoyed when the same word is used twice in a phrase. He misses pale shadows cast by dried up roses in juice glasses. He also misses something else, but he has too much pride to write about it. It's a shame he's completely see-through.
Saturday, March 25, 2006
The beat that my heart skipped..
The key word today is numb. I've been feeling and dealing with some form of that concept since about noon hour and I'm very much lost on how to deal with it. Seemingly it's even over-arching to my writing, as I've apparently been staring at this blank box for about five minutes, knowing full well that I want to say something, but being entirely incapable of going through with it. That you're reading these words right now can be attributed to my decision of simply writing what's coming out (with some minor tweaking and editing.. as any student of a form of the written word would indulge in). So what is it that's wrong with me? I honestly can't quite put my finger on it, but I'm starting to wonder if the question I should be asking isn't 'What isn't wrong with me?'. Without a doubt, I feel empty. I just came to realize today that I haven't felt a polarizing emotion in such a long time. I've been wading through these questions of self, trying to define what 'home' is to me and desperately trying to figure out where I belong, but through it all I've lost perspective of myself, I forgot to touch base somewhere and now all I've got is this sense of emptiness. But emptiness on what level? I'm thinking emotional and creative expression. In a sense, it's like I've been trying so desperately to figure myself out from the inside that I forgot to let things in. I'm just realizing this now and it seems really tragic to me. I'm also realizing that I keep talking about 'realizing things' and 'realizations' and other nonsense of the like, and it's getting me self-conscious about my writing. Fuck.
So how do we cure this? How do we turn a cyclical and self-fulfilling concept like this on its head? I imagine there is no concrete way. But maybe not feeling so lonely for the first time in what seems like forever could help. I really miss having someone to share with and that really seems to be a recurring theme in these posts. If only I wasn't so awkward at pursuing relationships, if only I wasn't so afraid of getting hurt yet again, if only I didn't feel so horribly uninteresting and 'not myself' when I do happen to meet someone nice and lovely, maybe I'd stand a chance. Then again, maybe I'm creating an existential vortex out of a one night case of feeling numb.
Who am I kidding? I'm obviously insane. Good night.
So how do we cure this? How do we turn a cyclical and self-fulfilling concept like this on its head? I imagine there is no concrete way. But maybe not feeling so lonely for the first time in what seems like forever could help. I really miss having someone to share with and that really seems to be a recurring theme in these posts. If only I wasn't so awkward at pursuing relationships, if only I wasn't so afraid of getting hurt yet again, if only I didn't feel so horribly uninteresting and 'not myself' when I do happen to meet someone nice and lovely, maybe I'd stand a chance. Then again, maybe I'm creating an existential vortex out of a one night case of feeling numb.
Who am I kidding? I'm obviously insane. Good night.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Sweep the dirty stairs, the ones I waited on...
So I've decided to put to pasture those two blogs that never got any use. To say that my initial project of maintaining four blogs, with varying subjects and interests, was ambitious would be quite the understatement. Now that's not to say that I have no opinion or interest in the matters of music or political/philosophical rambling (those who know me well are aware that it's quite the contrary but simply, I sometimes lack motivation to put all my thoughts to paper, or some form of binary/hexadecimal code, as the case may be. Against all odds, the monstrosity known as Francis Bacon Stole my Shoes has emerged from the wreck that is my blogging career and has trampled through the countryside, swatting down helicopters, toppling buildings and terrifying hapless bespectacled asian businessmen. Oh, the wrath, the inhumanity, the shitty low-res pictures. Whatever. I've discovered a fondness for photography, and I'll keep nurturing it as long as I feel that I'm passionate about it.
So what's new in Camp Cynical Jerk, you ask? Nothing much to be honest. My second semester of journalism school is underway, and while I'm still fascinated with the subject matter, a few of the classes I'm currently taking are leaving an acrimonious taste in my mouth. My radio class is of little interest to me, my interest in broadcast journalism having sunk long ago alongside the Empress, the Laconia, the Innesfallen and other similarly doomed vessels. Also, quite a few of the assignments that I have to turn in for my Writing and Reporting 1 class are focused on community going-ons, a subject that I have a fairly limited fascination with. But aside from these minor blemishes, my school semester is fruitful enough.
I've also been going through frequent bouts of introspective contemplation and mild depression. Something about this place bothers me. I have no clue what 'something' represents, nor am I certain which 'place' I'm referring to. This apartment? This town? The state of 'me' at this moment. It could be any one of those things, but I lack comfort, I lack warmth. On certain days it feels like these walls are miles-thick. On certain days it feels like these four and a half rooms are the furthest place from any source of light. Consequently, it often feels like I'm navigating a series of dimly lit hallways with blinders on. Every step uncertain. The end cloudy and obscured, the means terrifying and fragile. If only someone could come and show me where that light-switch is. I'd be forever grateful.
In band news, we're still rehearsing and writing, with no shows planned for now. We've created a blog specifically for band announcements, so I'd suggest for anyone with an interest in overwrought instrumental music to direct themselves over to http//cityofahundredspires.blogspot.com . We'll be updating it fairly often with nonsensical ramblings from all four of the band members.
Finally, I'm going to end this rare update with a little something special:
A bit over a month late, here it is, JM's top 20 records of 2005!
(keep in mind this list is limited to full records, i've left out eps, splits, singles and the like)
20 -- Jamie Lidell - Multiply
An amazing throwback album, perfect 70s soul mixed with cutting edge electronic flourishes. An absolutely fun listen from start to finish. Great to get your groove on to.
19 -- Sam Prekop - Who's Your New Professor?
Great laidback record. Everytime I listen to it I can't help but be taken back to summer days and good times. Sam's breathy voice is just enchanting on this. He sounds better than on any Sea and Cake record on here.
18 -- A Silver Mount Zion - Horses in the Sky
Beautiful, emotional, epic and moving. It's all about the vocals; fantastic melodies and harmonies. If the triple-canon at the end of 'God Bless our Dead Marines' doesn't put a lump in your throat, nothing will.
17 -- Sufjan Stevens - Illinois
Amazingly eclectic record filled with a variety of instruments and moods. Some of the most inventive arrangements to be found on an indie rock record. Sufjan proves that his being prolific does not come at the cost of quality song-writing.
16 -- The Clientele - Strange Geometry
Lovely dreamy indie pop. Think Paul Simon backed by sweet delay and reverb drenched guitars. An absolutely splendid listen.
15 -- Prefuse 73 - Surrounded by Silence
Fantastic glitchy hip-hop record. Features more vocal appearances than his previous work, but still enthralling. Appearances of note: The Books (gorgeous track with chopped up banjo), El-P, Ghostface, the GZA and Aesop Rock!
14 -- Sigur Ros - Takk
Ridiculously pretty. Most definitely their most accessible material, characterized by warm, heartbreaking melodies and the occasional deafening crescendo. Loverly indeed.
13 -- Kepler - Attic Salt
Ottawa's indie veterans released a real gem this year. Beautiful, perfectly written indie rock. Samir's voice sounds fantastic on this release and his melodies and lyrics follow suit. Check this out.
12 -- Mogwai - Government Commissions
Live set of songs from Scotland's post-rock tyrants. This is worth the price of admission simply for the earth-shattering 18 minute rendition of Like Herod, and for it's chill-inducing version of New Paths to Helicon 1. Oh, and the rest is great too.
11 -- Jaga Jazzist - What We Must
Lush instrumental compositions incorporating a huge variety of instruments and sounds. Really evocative music, it instantly summons up colorful images in the heads of anyone smart enough to listen. Just amazing.
10 -- The American Analog Set - Set Free
Slow, dreamy, lovely and, dare I say it, sexy. Really gorgeous minimal indie rock, complete with vibraphone. 'She's Half' is one of the most beautiful tracks I've ever heard. Check it out. Similar in mood to My Bloody Valentine, if anyone cares.
9 -- Explosions in the Sky - Travel In Constants: The Rescue
Okay, I'm cheating just abit on this one. This is not quite an ep and not quite an lp, more of a miny album. However, it's just too good to leave off this list. At this point, it seems this band can do no wrong. They expanded the instrumentation on this release, but cut back on song lengths. The result is mesmerizing. Stuff to listen to loud and with the lights off, while doing nothing else.
8 -- Kanye West - Late Registration
Ridiculous production, genuinely fun songs and a great cast of guest appearances (Common, Lupe Fiasco, Jay-Z, Adam Levine(!?), Gil Scott-Heron). The first half of this record is near flawless, while the second lags abit. Still an amazing mainstream hip-hop record. Word.
7 -- Pelican - The Fire in our Throats will Beckon the Thaw
Jaw-dropping instrumental rock-outs. More atmospheric than their first record and considerably more accomplished. Loud, rocking music for just about anyone.
6 -- Maritime - We, the Vehicles
Another semi-cheat, this isn't released here yet, but it was released in Japan and in the UK back in the fall. This is Davey from the Promise Ring's new band. Honestly, this record pretty much achieves the perfect balance between that dark indie sound and gorgeous pop. Great lyrics, melodies, instrumentation and song-writing. 'Tearing Up the Oxygen' is a ridiculous song.
5 -- Four Tet - Everything Ecstatic
Less accessible and pretty than his earlier stuff, this record is still a must own. These electro-acoustic compositions are much more expansive, dense and complex. Lots of jazzy beats and interesting melodies. Stuff to shake 'yo ass to. 'Smile Around the Face' is the ultimate cheer-up song.
4 -- Thrice - Vheissu
Say what you will about this band, they've released one of the best records this year, and one of the best rock records of the past five years. Amazing songwriting, production, playing and innovation, this is one of the most remarkable cases of a band maturing and honing their craft. The songs come off sounding as a mix of Quicksand, meets Cave-In, meets Radiohead, with a small dash of Isis. Seriously, great. Oh, and I can't move on without mentionning the quality of the lyrics and writing: really inspired, eloquent and inventive.
3 -- Propagandhi - Potemkin City Limits
Simply a jaw-dropping record. Intense, perfectly-written and played, uncompromising and most importantly just plain rockin'. The boys have released the best record of their career and a watershed record for rock n' roll, period. Once again, all of this is without mentionning the lyrics. Amazingly complex, insightful, witty and pertinent. Seriously, this gets my highest recommendation.
2 -- Minus the Bear - Menos El Oso
Easily toppling Highly Refined Pirates, this record has absolutely amazing compositions. Every song has its own distinct mood and everyone of them is a joy to listen to. Just fun, complex, dancy indie rock. Definitely, the record that's received the most spins in my cd player this year.
1 -- Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane - Live at Carnegie Hall
What can be said about this? Two of the most influential players ever (and coincidentally my two favorite) caught at the pinnacle of their collaboration, Coltrane viciously feeding off of Monk's compositions, the results are just electric and ridiculously exciting. The sound quality is top notch too. It's a miracle that this was unearthed. Too cool.
Wow, that was exhaustive. Okay I'm out for tonight, I need the rest. Cheers and take care all.
So what's new in Camp Cynical Jerk, you ask? Nothing much to be honest. My second semester of journalism school is underway, and while I'm still fascinated with the subject matter, a few of the classes I'm currently taking are leaving an acrimonious taste in my mouth. My radio class is of little interest to me, my interest in broadcast journalism having sunk long ago alongside the Empress, the Laconia, the Innesfallen and other similarly doomed vessels. Also, quite a few of the assignments that I have to turn in for my Writing and Reporting 1 class are focused on community going-ons, a subject that I have a fairly limited fascination with. But aside from these minor blemishes, my school semester is fruitful enough.
I've also been going through frequent bouts of introspective contemplation and mild depression. Something about this place bothers me. I have no clue what 'something' represents, nor am I certain which 'place' I'm referring to. This apartment? This town? The state of 'me' at this moment. It could be any one of those things, but I lack comfort, I lack warmth. On certain days it feels like these walls are miles-thick. On certain days it feels like these four and a half rooms are the furthest place from any source of light. Consequently, it often feels like I'm navigating a series of dimly lit hallways with blinders on. Every step uncertain. The end cloudy and obscured, the means terrifying and fragile. If only someone could come and show me where that light-switch is. I'd be forever grateful.
In band news, we're still rehearsing and writing, with no shows planned for now. We've created a blog specifically for band announcements, so I'd suggest for anyone with an interest in overwrought instrumental music to direct themselves over to http//cityofahundredspires.blogspot.com . We'll be updating it fairly often with nonsensical ramblings from all four of the band members.
Finally, I'm going to end this rare update with a little something special:
A bit over a month late, here it is, JM's top 20 records of 2005!
(keep in mind this list is limited to full records, i've left out eps, splits, singles and the like)
20 -- Jamie Lidell - Multiply
An amazing throwback album, perfect 70s soul mixed with cutting edge electronic flourishes. An absolutely fun listen from start to finish. Great to get your groove on to.
19 -- Sam Prekop - Who's Your New Professor?
Great laidback record. Everytime I listen to it I can't help but be taken back to summer days and good times. Sam's breathy voice is just enchanting on this. He sounds better than on any Sea and Cake record on here.
18 -- A Silver Mount Zion - Horses in the Sky
Beautiful, emotional, epic and moving. It's all about the vocals; fantastic melodies and harmonies. If the triple-canon at the end of 'God Bless our Dead Marines' doesn't put a lump in your throat, nothing will.
17 -- Sufjan Stevens - Illinois
Amazingly eclectic record filled with a variety of instruments and moods. Some of the most inventive arrangements to be found on an indie rock record. Sufjan proves that his being prolific does not come at the cost of quality song-writing.
16 -- The Clientele - Strange Geometry
Lovely dreamy indie pop. Think Paul Simon backed by sweet delay and reverb drenched guitars. An absolutely splendid listen.
15 -- Prefuse 73 - Surrounded by Silence
Fantastic glitchy hip-hop record. Features more vocal appearances than his previous work, but still enthralling. Appearances of note: The Books (gorgeous track with chopped up banjo), El-P, Ghostface, the GZA and Aesop Rock!
14 -- Sigur Ros - Takk
Ridiculously pretty. Most definitely their most accessible material, characterized by warm, heartbreaking melodies and the occasional deafening crescendo. Loverly indeed.
13 -- Kepler - Attic Salt
Ottawa's indie veterans released a real gem this year. Beautiful, perfectly written indie rock. Samir's voice sounds fantastic on this release and his melodies and lyrics follow suit. Check this out.
12 -- Mogwai - Government Commissions
Live set of songs from Scotland's post-rock tyrants. This is worth the price of admission simply for the earth-shattering 18 minute rendition of Like Herod, and for it's chill-inducing version of New Paths to Helicon 1. Oh, and the rest is great too.
11 -- Jaga Jazzist - What We Must
Lush instrumental compositions incorporating a huge variety of instruments and sounds. Really evocative music, it instantly summons up colorful images in the heads of anyone smart enough to listen. Just amazing.
10 -- The American Analog Set - Set Free
Slow, dreamy, lovely and, dare I say it, sexy. Really gorgeous minimal indie rock, complete with vibraphone. 'She's Half' is one of the most beautiful tracks I've ever heard. Check it out. Similar in mood to My Bloody Valentine, if anyone cares.
9 -- Explosions in the Sky - Travel In Constants: The Rescue
Okay, I'm cheating just abit on this one. This is not quite an ep and not quite an lp, more of a miny album. However, it's just too good to leave off this list. At this point, it seems this band can do no wrong. They expanded the instrumentation on this release, but cut back on song lengths. The result is mesmerizing. Stuff to listen to loud and with the lights off, while doing nothing else.
8 -- Kanye West - Late Registration
Ridiculous production, genuinely fun songs and a great cast of guest appearances (Common, Lupe Fiasco, Jay-Z, Adam Levine(!?), Gil Scott-Heron). The first half of this record is near flawless, while the second lags abit. Still an amazing mainstream hip-hop record. Word.
7 -- Pelican - The Fire in our Throats will Beckon the Thaw
Jaw-dropping instrumental rock-outs. More atmospheric than their first record and considerably more accomplished. Loud, rocking music for just about anyone.
6 -- Maritime - We, the Vehicles
Another semi-cheat, this isn't released here yet, but it was released in Japan and in the UK back in the fall. This is Davey from the Promise Ring's new band. Honestly, this record pretty much achieves the perfect balance between that dark indie sound and gorgeous pop. Great lyrics, melodies, instrumentation and song-writing. 'Tearing Up the Oxygen' is a ridiculous song.
5 -- Four Tet - Everything Ecstatic
Less accessible and pretty than his earlier stuff, this record is still a must own. These electro-acoustic compositions are much more expansive, dense and complex. Lots of jazzy beats and interesting melodies. Stuff to shake 'yo ass to. 'Smile Around the Face' is the ultimate cheer-up song.
4 -- Thrice - Vheissu
Say what you will about this band, they've released one of the best records this year, and one of the best rock records of the past five years. Amazing songwriting, production, playing and innovation, this is one of the most remarkable cases of a band maturing and honing their craft. The songs come off sounding as a mix of Quicksand, meets Cave-In, meets Radiohead, with a small dash of Isis. Seriously, great. Oh, and I can't move on without mentionning the quality of the lyrics and writing: really inspired, eloquent and inventive.
3 -- Propagandhi - Potemkin City Limits
Simply a jaw-dropping record. Intense, perfectly-written and played, uncompromising and most importantly just plain rockin'. The boys have released the best record of their career and a watershed record for rock n' roll, period. Once again, all of this is without mentionning the lyrics. Amazingly complex, insightful, witty and pertinent. Seriously, this gets my highest recommendation.
2 -- Minus the Bear - Menos El Oso
Easily toppling Highly Refined Pirates, this record has absolutely amazing compositions. Every song has its own distinct mood and everyone of them is a joy to listen to. Just fun, complex, dancy indie rock. Definitely, the record that's received the most spins in my cd player this year.
1 -- Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane - Live at Carnegie Hall
What can be said about this? Two of the most influential players ever (and coincidentally my two favorite) caught at the pinnacle of their collaboration, Coltrane viciously feeding off of Monk's compositions, the results are just electric and ridiculously exciting. The sound quality is top notch too. It's a miracle that this was unearthed. Too cool.
Wow, that was exhaustive. Okay I'm out for tonight, I need the rest. Cheers and take care all.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Ghosts in the photograph never lied to me
I could do the whole 'wow, I haven't posted on this thing in a solid three months' thing and then try to explain and legitimize my absence from the blogging world, but I won't because that would be expected and boring. But woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves, that's not to imply that anything of what I'm going to post on here today will be of any interest to anyone.
I'm one exam away from being done with my first semester of Journalism at Concordia University and while I'm very happy at the prospect of being able to relax and not think of anything for a period of two weeks, I'm also very satisfied with how things went and with the overall direction my life is heading in. I'm loving Journalism school so far and I feel I'm doing well. I think I've learnt quite a few new things that I've managed to assimilate into my writing style and I definitely think I've grown as a writer as a result of that. There are however a few things that I'd like to rectify for my next semester; mainly my penchant for procrastination when ugly work rears its head. But I think such prospects are entirely in the realm of the 'doable'. I'd attribute allot of my negative work ethic to the considerable adjustment period with the shift to Montreal. Which brings me to my next point: Montreal.
I had a rough time adapting to life in this city. I won't lie to anyone, there were a few days that I honestly wondered if my being here had any purpose. There were days that I drove back from Gatineau to Montreal with a rather large lump in my throat. There were days when I felt like I had no one here, and to a rather large degree I don't, but more on that in a bit. There were days spent lying on my back staring at the ceiling. Days were spent sleeping in, they bled together and it often seemed that I was not going to get better. Thankfully, I did. I started really liking school, I finally got a job and I managed to take up enough hobbies to keep myself busy and ultimately sane. This also meant accepting that by and large, I'm alone here. I lost touch with quite a few people by moving here, and that's something that doesn't really sit well with me. I'll be working on trying to rectify those situations over the coming weeks.
Which brings me to this someone. This someone whom I also lost touch with because of the move here. I'm not sure how it happened. We were really close for a bit and I liked that allot. I really cared for this someone and I think I still do. I think I would've liked to tell that someone just how much I cared for her, but circumstances kept me from doing such a thing. Now we barely talk, which really bothers me. I think what we had for abit, whatever that might have been, was quite nice. It was good to feel like I mattered to someone again, to really get someone and to feel like maybe they actually even got me. I don't know where I'm going with this though, it's probably simply over, which is made harder by the lack of resolution.
In brighter, better and more current events, City of a Hundred Spires convened at my apartment last night for some intense partying. We simply got absolutely smashed and just had an all around great time. I love those guys and really, they are my brothers. I had one of the best times I've had in awhile and I'm really greatful to still be able to share moments like that with them, despite us living in different towns. Cheers to them.
Finally, speaking of the band, we will be having our reunion show at Mavericks in Ottawa on January 4th. The show will be 7$ at the door and is all-ages for you non 19 year olds. This will be Robot Kill City's last show. They were a really great band and you should definitely come down and help them exit with a bang and a bow. Also playing are the Curviture, Matthew Johnston and Bangkok Noodle House. Fun times, I expect to see allot of you there. I'll do a little feature on my music blog about this show next week, with links to music from all the bands and so on.
Okay that's it, I'm out. I have to go study for International Relations and then I bust it back to Ottawa/Gatineau for a few weeks. It's going to be lovely. Oh how I miss Ottawa's little big town charm. I'll update when I'll be home sometime. Till then, to quote the legendary Ed Murrow, good night and good luck.
I'm one exam away from being done with my first semester of Journalism at Concordia University and while I'm very happy at the prospect of being able to relax and not think of anything for a period of two weeks, I'm also very satisfied with how things went and with the overall direction my life is heading in. I'm loving Journalism school so far and I feel I'm doing well. I think I've learnt quite a few new things that I've managed to assimilate into my writing style and I definitely think I've grown as a writer as a result of that. There are however a few things that I'd like to rectify for my next semester; mainly my penchant for procrastination when ugly work rears its head. But I think such prospects are entirely in the realm of the 'doable'. I'd attribute allot of my negative work ethic to the considerable adjustment period with the shift to Montreal. Which brings me to my next point: Montreal.
I had a rough time adapting to life in this city. I won't lie to anyone, there were a few days that I honestly wondered if my being here had any purpose. There were days that I drove back from Gatineau to Montreal with a rather large lump in my throat. There were days when I felt like I had no one here, and to a rather large degree I don't, but more on that in a bit. There were days spent lying on my back staring at the ceiling. Days were spent sleeping in, they bled together and it often seemed that I was not going to get better. Thankfully, I did. I started really liking school, I finally got a job and I managed to take up enough hobbies to keep myself busy and ultimately sane. This also meant accepting that by and large, I'm alone here. I lost touch with quite a few people by moving here, and that's something that doesn't really sit well with me. I'll be working on trying to rectify those situations over the coming weeks.
Which brings me to this someone. This someone whom I also lost touch with because of the move here. I'm not sure how it happened. We were really close for a bit and I liked that allot. I really cared for this someone and I think I still do. I think I would've liked to tell that someone just how much I cared for her, but circumstances kept me from doing such a thing. Now we barely talk, which really bothers me. I think what we had for abit, whatever that might have been, was quite nice. It was good to feel like I mattered to someone again, to really get someone and to feel like maybe they actually even got me. I don't know where I'm going with this though, it's probably simply over, which is made harder by the lack of resolution.
In brighter, better and more current events, City of a Hundred Spires convened at my apartment last night for some intense partying. We simply got absolutely smashed and just had an all around great time. I love those guys and really, they are my brothers. I had one of the best times I've had in awhile and I'm really greatful to still be able to share moments like that with them, despite us living in different towns. Cheers to them.
Finally, speaking of the band, we will be having our reunion show at Mavericks in Ottawa on January 4th. The show will be 7$ at the door and is all-ages for you non 19 year olds. This will be Robot Kill City's last show. They were a really great band and you should definitely come down and help them exit with a bang and a bow. Also playing are the Curviture, Matthew Johnston and Bangkok Noodle House. Fun times, I expect to see allot of you there. I'll do a little feature on my music blog about this show next week, with links to music from all the bands and so on.
Okay that's it, I'm out. I have to go study for International Relations and then I bust it back to Ottawa/Gatineau for a few weeks. It's going to be lovely. Oh how I miss Ottawa's little big town charm. I'll update when I'll be home sometime. Till then, to quote the legendary Ed Murrow, good night and good luck.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Fuck not lest ye be fucked
Greetings bold and ever-dwindling audience! After what must surely be a multiple month absence, I'm back to the blogging world. Granted that's not something to write home about, but I must say that allot has changed in my tiny microcosm over the last while and I'm excited to have something to write about again, as well as a bunch of new prospects. Okay, I'll make a really long story short for now, I've become a citizen of Montreal, I study at Concordia University in Journalism and I'm just trying to keep my head up, keep myself busy and ultimately stay sane in this brand new environment.
For now though, I'd just like to draw your attention to these few things:
On the Cusp : This is a movie/music review blog/zine thing that I'm going to be working on from now on. Expect fairly regular updates with contributing writers everyonce in awhile. Sweet deal.
"One,two,three, is it snowing there Mr. Thiessen?" : What's this? Simply a place where I'll be writing about whatever goes through my mind in the areas of politics, socio-politics and philosophy. Again, expect a gaggle of my friends to occasionally chip in.
Francis Bacon stole my shoes : I have no idea how that title came to mind, but unfortunately the site deals with neither Francis Bacon the philosopher, Francis Bacon the artist or the pilfering of shoes... or any combination thereof. Rather, it's going to be a spot for me to put up some pictures I've snapped for all to see. I'm just getting into this, so please lend me some of your patience.
Well, that was exhausting. So where does this leave good ol' Too much thought, too little sleep ? I'll still write in it on occasion to go into the slightly more personal stuff and of course to do some thinly veiled rambling about girls when it's needed. I mean, what self-respecting blogger doesn't?
So that's it for now... I'll try and update all four of these beasts by tommorow, hopefully my word will be kept. Cheers.
For now though, I'd just like to draw your attention to these few things:
On the Cusp : This is a movie/music review blog/zine thing that I'm going to be working on from now on. Expect fairly regular updates with contributing writers everyonce in awhile. Sweet deal.
"One,two,three, is it snowing there Mr. Thiessen?" : What's this? Simply a place where I'll be writing about whatever goes through my mind in the areas of politics, socio-politics and philosophy. Again, expect a gaggle of my friends to occasionally chip in.
Francis Bacon stole my shoes : I have no idea how that title came to mind, but unfortunately the site deals with neither Francis Bacon the philosopher, Francis Bacon the artist or the pilfering of shoes... or any combination thereof. Rather, it's going to be a spot for me to put up some pictures I've snapped for all to see. I'm just getting into this, so please lend me some of your patience.
Well, that was exhausting. So where does this leave good ol' Too much thought, too little sleep ? I'll still write in it on occasion to go into the slightly more personal stuff and of course to do some thinly veiled rambling about girls when it's needed. I mean, what self-respecting blogger doesn't?
So that's it for now... I'll try and update all four of these beasts by tommorow, hopefully my word will be kept. Cheers.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
A toast to you, your whisper, your smile...
I keep amazing myself at how little resolve I seem to have to keep this blog up to date. It's not like it's a particularly taxing exercise, I sit down, reflect on the going-ons that have occured since the last time I decided to burden this page with my thoughts, think of witty ways of putting them to said page (all in a vain attempt at making me seem that small bit more interesting... to whom? I wouldn't know really...) and finally hit that little 'publish' button and hope that someone takes something from it. Kindof pathetic really, but oh well.. here we go again.
So here I am sitting in my backyard by the pool, it's about 1:30am, it's a cool night with a cool breeze, I got back from watching War of the Worlds not too long ago (go see it if Tripods wrecking shit, Tim Robbin's being creepy, insane and awesome all at the same time, and horrendous endings that nearly ruin movies are your thing..) and I'm sitting here at the computer trying to adequately sum up the last two or so months of my meager existence. Where to begin? Well, you all should know that I am done, finished and ultimately rid of CEGEP. I managed to barely crawl out of the fiery crimson wreckage that was my stint in Computer Sciences, and it seems like I'm going to make a full recovery. The marks are in, they are by no means stellar, but they guarantee me my DEC and honestly, I could not ask for more. Concordia University and a potential new career in journalism are the next things on my 'you're doing it, you're fucking doing it' list and I actually feel quite compelled to get through them. Oh, who am I kidding, I'm fucking giddy with excitement about it.
The big move to Montreal is happening relatively soon, I should be settling in around early August, with preparations for said operation beginning as early as this week-end (which is to say cleaning my filthy appartment.. ie: hermetically sealing off the room, pumping CLR into it, letting it rest for a few days.. wow that'd be ideal) Now honestly, this whole 'new city' thing has me quite intrigued. I'm looking forward to discovering new hang-out spots, new restaurants, meeting new people and also getting involved in a whole new music scene (and by that I don't mean rubbing elbows and knocking back pints with Win Butler and Efrim Menuck every night.. although I can dream).
Speaking of music, I guess I should bring up on here that City of a Hundred Spires is no more. To a certain degree, this was my decision and it wasn't an easy one to make, although I did see it coming. It just felt to me like the time had come to move on to something different, the dynamic and drive that I used to feel within the band was gone, and I wasn't having fun practicing and playing shows anymore. I figured it was best to end it there, and not let it drag on, especially with my moving to a different town. It would've killed us even more to invest more time, money, effort and heart into something that would've fallen appart at a later date. There will be farewell shows sometime in August, I'll keep you all posted on when and where. I guess I've been half-assedly working on some solo stuff that I might post on here if ever I get comfortable with my 'bedroom-pop' persona, but don't expect anything too soon.
On a side note, has anyone ever noticed that hip-hop is virtually the only genre to feature explicit name-dropping and a detailed explanation of the intricacies of the genre itself, you know, shit like 'Yeah, this is the real hip-hop, dropping the sickest rhymes at ya from the west coast!' ? I'd have trouble imagining something like 'Yo, this is the OG post-rock crew, we be pimpin' the illest octave chords and craziest build-ups this side of the Mason-Dixon line..' Ok, maybe I'm just an idiot.
Is this getting long-winded? Bah, who cares if it is, I haven't written on here in ages, it's still really nice out, I'm not that tired and I still have some stuff to say.. I've noticed over the last while that my self-confidence is basically shot to shit, which is somewhat strange since I sincerely haven't devalued myself in any way, and I still have the same basic outlook on who I am that I've had for as long as I can remember (that stability is something I am very grateful for). But it just seems that I find myself wondering 'what exactly, if anything, do I have to offer?' lately, and it wouldn't be entirely out of left field to assume that it's at the root of this 'lonely' feeling I've been getting farely often these days. Maybe I'm just jaded, possibly a smidge bitter and somewhat dissillusioned? Maybe my past experiences are taking their toll on my self-confidence. Maybe it's a little from column A and a little from column B. Maybe I'm full of it and that if I'd only lighten up abit I'd realize that I might be missing out on quite a few goods things (not that my life isn't filled with those already) ? I guess I'll just give it some time, it's not like I'd actually contemplate changing how I am to fit some undetermined criteria, I'm way too stubborn for such nonsense.
I guess I'll end all of this with a plea to everyone to just go out and enjoy the little things. Go for a late night walk and gawk at the stars, go explore some place you've never dared and make an excursion out of it, go out and have a great conversation about anything or nothing with someone, visit new restaurants and try new food, go on smallish roadtrips to whocareswhere, go out to shows that have bands on the bill that you've never heard of, read books and watch movies. Hell, just do something. So many of us go about our days taking for granted all these things that lie right underneath our noses, it'd be a shame to not take notice, even if it is only once in awhile. This is making allot of sense to me right now, hopefully it'll be as coherent when I wake up, and maybe just a tad interesting to whomever reads it. It's 3:00am now and I have to get up abit too soon, so I'm gonna head out. I hope everybody has a nice one, whatever that might be.
music that fueled this blabbering:
The Appleseed Cast - Low Level Owl Volumes 1 and 2
The Arcade Fire - Funeral (why the fuck am I not tiring of this record?)
So here I am sitting in my backyard by the pool, it's about 1:30am, it's a cool night with a cool breeze, I got back from watching War of the Worlds not too long ago (go see it if Tripods wrecking shit, Tim Robbin's being creepy, insane and awesome all at the same time, and horrendous endings that nearly ruin movies are your thing..) and I'm sitting here at the computer trying to adequately sum up the last two or so months of my meager existence. Where to begin? Well, you all should know that I am done, finished and ultimately rid of CEGEP. I managed to barely crawl out of the fiery crimson wreckage that was my stint in Computer Sciences, and it seems like I'm going to make a full recovery. The marks are in, they are by no means stellar, but they guarantee me my DEC and honestly, I could not ask for more. Concordia University and a potential new career in journalism are the next things on my 'you're doing it, you're fucking doing it' list and I actually feel quite compelled to get through them. Oh, who am I kidding, I'm fucking giddy with excitement about it.
The big move to Montreal is happening relatively soon, I should be settling in around early August, with preparations for said operation beginning as early as this week-end (which is to say cleaning my filthy appartment.. ie: hermetically sealing off the room, pumping CLR into it, letting it rest for a few days.. wow that'd be ideal) Now honestly, this whole 'new city' thing has me quite intrigued. I'm looking forward to discovering new hang-out spots, new restaurants, meeting new people and also getting involved in a whole new music scene (and by that I don't mean rubbing elbows and knocking back pints with Win Butler and Efrim Menuck every night.. although I can dream).
Speaking of music, I guess I should bring up on here that City of a Hundred Spires is no more. To a certain degree, this was my decision and it wasn't an easy one to make, although I did see it coming. It just felt to me like the time had come to move on to something different, the dynamic and drive that I used to feel within the band was gone, and I wasn't having fun practicing and playing shows anymore. I figured it was best to end it there, and not let it drag on, especially with my moving to a different town. It would've killed us even more to invest more time, money, effort and heart into something that would've fallen appart at a later date. There will be farewell shows sometime in August, I'll keep you all posted on when and where. I guess I've been half-assedly working on some solo stuff that I might post on here if ever I get comfortable with my 'bedroom-pop' persona, but don't expect anything too soon.
On a side note, has anyone ever noticed that hip-hop is virtually the only genre to feature explicit name-dropping and a detailed explanation of the intricacies of the genre itself, you know, shit like 'Yeah, this is the real hip-hop, dropping the sickest rhymes at ya from the west coast!' ? I'd have trouble imagining something like 'Yo, this is the OG post-rock crew, we be pimpin' the illest octave chords and craziest build-ups this side of the Mason-Dixon line..' Ok, maybe I'm just an idiot.
Is this getting long-winded? Bah, who cares if it is, I haven't written on here in ages, it's still really nice out, I'm not that tired and I still have some stuff to say.. I've noticed over the last while that my self-confidence is basically shot to shit, which is somewhat strange since I sincerely haven't devalued myself in any way, and I still have the same basic outlook on who I am that I've had for as long as I can remember (that stability is something I am very grateful for). But it just seems that I find myself wondering 'what exactly, if anything, do I have to offer?' lately, and it wouldn't be entirely out of left field to assume that it's at the root of this 'lonely' feeling I've been getting farely often these days. Maybe I'm just jaded, possibly a smidge bitter and somewhat dissillusioned? Maybe my past experiences are taking their toll on my self-confidence. Maybe it's a little from column A and a little from column B. Maybe I'm full of it and that if I'd only lighten up abit I'd realize that I might be missing out on quite a few goods things (not that my life isn't filled with those already) ? I guess I'll just give it some time, it's not like I'd actually contemplate changing how I am to fit some undetermined criteria, I'm way too stubborn for such nonsense.
I guess I'll end all of this with a plea to everyone to just go out and enjoy the little things. Go for a late night walk and gawk at the stars, go explore some place you've never dared and make an excursion out of it, go out and have a great conversation about anything or nothing with someone, visit new restaurants and try new food, go on smallish roadtrips to whocareswhere, go out to shows that have bands on the bill that you've never heard of, read books and watch movies. Hell, just do something. So many of us go about our days taking for granted all these things that lie right underneath our noses, it'd be a shame to not take notice, even if it is only once in awhile. This is making allot of sense to me right now, hopefully it'll be as coherent when I wake up, and maybe just a tad interesting to whomever reads it. It's 3:00am now and I have to get up abit too soon, so I'm gonna head out. I hope everybody has a nice one, whatever that might be.
music that fueled this blabbering:
The Appleseed Cast - Low Level Owl Volumes 1 and 2
The Arcade Fire - Funeral (why the fuck am I not tiring of this record?)
Sunday, April 24, 2005
It's rare to feel this expensive, but next to a girl like her...
Greetings to the few who read this, how've you all been? Myself, I've been doing good and I'd like to offer my apologies for that uncontrolled outburst of melancholy last week. Shit happens, I was feeling pretty sideways and that's what came out. Bah.
So what's new, I hear you half-heartedly asking? Well, let's see.. Things at school have been going moderately well, I've been doing some quality work and I think I'll be able to have a coherent and at least satisfyingly functional program to hand-in to our client by semester's end. Honestly, I'd like to have most of it done sooner than later, so that I can then tackle with aplomb the other two remaining projects I'll have to drop by May's end. So much work to be done in such a rapidly dwindling time period. But I'm satisfied, I've realized that these things must be accomplished for me to move on to prospects fresh and exciting. Montreal awaits, with it's new apartments, new schools, new jobs, new people and yes, of course, new challenges. And I can't fucking wait.
Next saturday will see me and Daph heading out to Montreal with the bright glimmering hope of finding an absolutely lovely apartment that somehow manages to be cozy, beautiful, well-situated and of course, fairly affordable. I'm really looking forward to it, but not quite as much as I am to spending my first night there, crashing on my couch/futon/beanbag chair/whatever and watching movies or listening to some records. Sweet.
Speaking of records, I got an early birthday present, a brand new record player! Fantastic. Now I'll be able to enjoy these LPs and 7"s that I took from my parents this week-end, including but not limited to: Stevie Wonder (older stuff), Lionel Ritchie, the Commodores, Shanana (oh hell yes), Huey Lewis & The News, Bad + Thriller era Michael Jackson, Barry White, Dean Martin... oh and the Ghostbusters Theme Song 7" single. Ah, plastic gold. I also managed to find a few nice newer LPs last week-end, namely the Sunny Day Real Estate Live record, which is amazingly powerful, Texas is the Reason's Do You Know Who You Are? and The Sea and Cake's Oui. Great, great finds.
Last friday, City of a Hundred Spires played a very brief set (10 fucking minutes) at the Heritage College Awards Banquet. Highlights were: 10,000$ worth of sound/lighting equipment, the temperature on stage being akin to that of a blast furnace, me unplugging my gear multiple times as a result of my running around the enormous stage, great response from everyone and lastly, COAHS winning a nifty 100$ prize for "creativity/originality"... nifty.
In band matters, things are alright enough, but I'm feeling a certain unease about it all lately. I believe a nice band discussion is in order to put a few things into proper light, namely upcoming shows, summer plans, long-term goals and musical direction, of which I feel we've unjustly pigeon-holed ourselves. Last week, I was listening to our Straight, No Chaser and I concluded that I absolutely love that record, that I'm amazingly proud of it. And for what reason? Because it dared to be absolutely everything it wanted to be. It was everything and anything we felt like doing at that point in time, and there was no need to think twice about it. It's what made us who we were. I'll always remember when some kid on a message-board referred to us as "all-over-the-place instrumental stuff".. fuck yeah. We've lost that drive and perspective. If we're to find it and mesh it with our newfound abilities for song-craftsmanship and melodicism, then I'll be damned if anything can stop us. No shit.
Alright, time for me to retire for the night. Oh and first thing tommorow, go, run the fuck out and buy the new Jaga Jazzist record entitled What We Must. It's stupendously fantastic. The song Stardust Hotel will make you dream of wandering strangely exotic, yet enticingly beautiful locales, all while taking in the cool night air and being absolutely intrigued at what you might encounter next. Seriously.
Good night and cheers.. oh and leave a fucking comment if you read this, I'm bloody lonely.
Oh, and for those of you wondering, there is no titular "girl like her".. The song Let's Play Clowns by Minus the Bear is amazing though.
So what's new, I hear you half-heartedly asking? Well, let's see.. Things at school have been going moderately well, I've been doing some quality work and I think I'll be able to have a coherent and at least satisfyingly functional program to hand-in to our client by semester's end. Honestly, I'd like to have most of it done sooner than later, so that I can then tackle with aplomb the other two remaining projects I'll have to drop by May's end. So much work to be done in such a rapidly dwindling time period. But I'm satisfied, I've realized that these things must be accomplished for me to move on to prospects fresh and exciting. Montreal awaits, with it's new apartments, new schools, new jobs, new people and yes, of course, new challenges. And I can't fucking wait.
Next saturday will see me and Daph heading out to Montreal with the bright glimmering hope of finding an absolutely lovely apartment that somehow manages to be cozy, beautiful, well-situated and of course, fairly affordable. I'm really looking forward to it, but not quite as much as I am to spending my first night there, crashing on my couch/futon/beanbag chair/whatever and watching movies or listening to some records. Sweet.
Speaking of records, I got an early birthday present, a brand new record player! Fantastic. Now I'll be able to enjoy these LPs and 7"s that I took from my parents this week-end, including but not limited to: Stevie Wonder (older stuff), Lionel Ritchie, the Commodores, Shanana (oh hell yes), Huey Lewis & The News, Bad + Thriller era Michael Jackson, Barry White, Dean Martin... oh and the Ghostbusters Theme Song 7" single. Ah, plastic gold. I also managed to find a few nice newer LPs last week-end, namely the Sunny Day Real Estate Live record, which is amazingly powerful, Texas is the Reason's Do You Know Who You Are? and The Sea and Cake's Oui. Great, great finds.
Last friday, City of a Hundred Spires played a very brief set (10 fucking minutes) at the Heritage College Awards Banquet. Highlights were: 10,000$ worth of sound/lighting equipment, the temperature on stage being akin to that of a blast furnace, me unplugging my gear multiple times as a result of my running around the enormous stage, great response from everyone and lastly, COAHS winning a nifty 100$ prize for "creativity/originality"... nifty.
In band matters, things are alright enough, but I'm feeling a certain unease about it all lately. I believe a nice band discussion is in order to put a few things into proper light, namely upcoming shows, summer plans, long-term goals and musical direction, of which I feel we've unjustly pigeon-holed ourselves. Last week, I was listening to our Straight, No Chaser and I concluded that I absolutely love that record, that I'm amazingly proud of it. And for what reason? Because it dared to be absolutely everything it wanted to be. It was everything and anything we felt like doing at that point in time, and there was no need to think twice about it. It's what made us who we were. I'll always remember when some kid on a message-board referred to us as "all-over-the-place instrumental stuff".. fuck yeah. We've lost that drive and perspective. If we're to find it and mesh it with our newfound abilities for song-craftsmanship and melodicism, then I'll be damned if anything can stop us. No shit.
Alright, time for me to retire for the night. Oh and first thing tommorow, go, run the fuck out and buy the new Jaga Jazzist record entitled What We Must. It's stupendously fantastic. The song Stardust Hotel will make you dream of wandering strangely exotic, yet enticingly beautiful locales, all while taking in the cool night air and being absolutely intrigued at what you might encounter next. Seriously.
Good night and cheers.. oh and leave a fucking comment if you read this, I'm bloody lonely.
Oh, and for those of you wondering, there is no titular "girl like her".. The song Let's Play Clowns by Minus the Bear is amazing though.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Towing the weary down river like rudderless wrecks...
So it's been what, a bit over a month since I last jotted down some of my thoughts in this thing? It seems that as per par, I failed to deliver the goods... I can't quite grasp why I have such a hard time finding the incentive and motivation to write down a few simple words in here, but here goes nothing yet again.
I am a wreck. At this point it seems like the only phrase I can come up with that adequately sums up how I feel. I'm sitting here trying my hand at writing these witty or clever lines to properly explain myself, and honestly I keep falling flat. I am a mess. Yeah, that one works as well. And now my attention is diverted by this absolutely beautiful distorted riff in Mineral's Unfinished, and no matter how hopeful and inspiring it is, there's simply no hipster indie way for me to word any of this.. And I am disappointed. Disappointed that my resolution to put enormous effort into my school projects hasn't fully worked out. Disappointed that I'm still working the same job, even after resolving that I was going to obtain a new one, in an effort to change at least part of what has made me so jaded. Disappointed that I gave up on a few situations that could've led to something genuinely nice, new and positive. Disappointed that I've become so boisterously emotional. Disappointed that I have no one to share with. Disappointed that I am now such a reclusive loner, ultimately distancing myself from some of my best friends, from some people that I truly care about. Disappointed that I misspelled "disappointed" so many times in the first version of this entry. Disappointed that I can't write guitar parts as good as that fucking Mineral riff.
Now is that to say that I'm disappointed in myself? Honestly, I am not. I am proud of who I am and of the few things that I've accomplished. I am a flawed individual for sure, but I'm very grateful to be aware of these blemishes; it affords me opportunities for bettering myself.
What's this I hear? "Great, fucker decides to write a new post just to whine about how he hates himself!?" No, that wasn't quite the point. This post is a reminder of where I was, and ultimately of where I'm heading; so that I can look back on all of this in a few months and be proud of where I'll be. And I mean that in the most positive way. Time to get to work. Cheers...
I am a wreck. At this point it seems like the only phrase I can come up with that adequately sums up how I feel. I'm sitting here trying my hand at writing these witty or clever lines to properly explain myself, and honestly I keep falling flat. I am a mess. Yeah, that one works as well. And now my attention is diverted by this absolutely beautiful distorted riff in Mineral's Unfinished, and no matter how hopeful and inspiring it is, there's simply no hipster indie way for me to word any of this.. And I am disappointed. Disappointed that my resolution to put enormous effort into my school projects hasn't fully worked out. Disappointed that I'm still working the same job, even after resolving that I was going to obtain a new one, in an effort to change at least part of what has made me so jaded. Disappointed that I gave up on a few situations that could've led to something genuinely nice, new and positive. Disappointed that I've become so boisterously emotional. Disappointed that I have no one to share with. Disappointed that I am now such a reclusive loner, ultimately distancing myself from some of my best friends, from some people that I truly care about. Disappointed that I misspelled "disappointed" so many times in the first version of this entry. Disappointed that I can't write guitar parts as good as that fucking Mineral riff.
Now is that to say that I'm disappointed in myself? Honestly, I am not. I am proud of who I am and of the few things that I've accomplished. I am a flawed individual for sure, but I'm very grateful to be aware of these blemishes; it affords me opportunities for bettering myself.
What's this I hear? "Great, fucker decides to write a new post just to whine about how he hates himself!?" No, that wasn't quite the point. This post is a reminder of where I was, and ultimately of where I'm heading; so that I can look back on all of this in a few months and be proud of where I'll be. And I mean that in the most positive way. Time to get to work. Cheers...
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Fuck your slow dead scene, we want a riot for romance!
The days bled into weeks and my resolution of maintaining a steady stream of quality content on this thing became but a vapid, insincere pipe-dream. Shit. As much as I try to condition myself otherwise, it seems I have to be in a very specific frame of mind to apply myself to writing in this thing, especially given the rather leisurely nature of it's specifics. So what's a quasi-compulsive procrastinator to do about such an impedance to productivity? That's dead simple. Convince his impressionable self to believe that writing a few paragraphs on some webpage read by a handful of people and three genetically engineered, hyper-intelligent porpoises located in New Zealand, can actually lead to him being less disenchanted and ambivalent towards all the other, possibly... no wait, assuredly more important things in his life. You know, sortof like a translation of interest and motivation? That makes sense right? I'm not completely loony am I? Either way.. onto some ramblings.
As most of you know, The Perfect Dystopia is dead.. it's funeral having taken place on February 25th 2005, at Club SAW, where a gaggle of people participated in a drunken barn dance to honor it's memory. Good times, my sincerest thanks to all who attended. But as you're all also aware of, City of a Hundred Spires has just sprung from the womb, alive and very much kicking. So you all know the deal by now, same line-up, same songs minus most of Straight, No Chaser, a slightly prettier, more atmospheric melodic slant and, brace yourselves kids, the inclusion of vocal parts! We'll be playing our first show as CoaHS in the coming weeks so keep an eye out on the old TPD site for news and show dates. The new songs we've been working on are sounding delightful, wrought with beautiful melodies, interesting dynamics and epic goodness. Seriously, I'm very proud of our progression as songwriters. I'll have more information on all of this very soon.
So it's around 3am right now, signifying that we're well into sunday and a few hours away from having dried out my vacation time. My last semester of studies in computer sciences shall be resumed tommorow, and serious... no... fucking downright biblical measures will be taken to insure my use of the word "last" in this sentence isn't straight fallacious. Sure, I despise computer sciences and I have a certain lack of interest for my end of session project, but I enjoy studying, I enjoy learning, reading, writing, critiquing, discussing, informing.. all positive things I have to look forward to once I'm through with this, and as stated before: that should be more than enough motivation to cleave through it with vigor and passion. Let this be my manifesto.
Finally, there's this other situation that's been looming over me for a certain period and for reasons of integrity and tact, I will not go into the immaculate details here. Blogs have a tendency of becoming the breeding ground for vile speculation and petty over-dramatizing when it's writers indulge in the all-too personal. I've mostly stayed clear of that and I shall continue. I feel there are more creative and fulfilling methods of confronting a subject than outright open-book ranting. Anyways, all I wish to iterate is that after what seemed like a snarling, vicious, obscenity-laden knife fight between my ego, id and super-ego, I've come to grips and have become comfortable with that which has been bothering me. All that is left is to make this clear to the parties involved, and see what results that ultimately brings. Someone wiser than me said it best: "... either way, we're here..." . Forgive my being so ambiguous, but I don't think I'd have it any other way. However, I am curious as to how many people will read this paragraph and wholly misinterpret it.
Okay... it's late and all these halos around the bright objects in my room are starting to annoy the hell out of me. I hope everyone has a nice and pleasant March 6th and I will be back with something on Wednesday, no shit. In the meantime go listen to the Album Leaf, Lou Barlow, the new live Mogwai record, Bloc Party and Mono. Oh and go watch I (heart) Huckabees, it'll cheer you up. Cheers.
As most of you know, The Perfect Dystopia is dead.. it's funeral having taken place on February 25th 2005, at Club SAW, where a gaggle of people participated in a drunken barn dance to honor it's memory. Good times, my sincerest thanks to all who attended. But as you're all also aware of, City of a Hundred Spires has just sprung from the womb, alive and very much kicking. So you all know the deal by now, same line-up, same songs minus most of Straight, No Chaser, a slightly prettier, more atmospheric melodic slant and, brace yourselves kids, the inclusion of vocal parts! We'll be playing our first show as CoaHS in the coming weeks so keep an eye out on the old TPD site for news and show dates. The new songs we've been working on are sounding delightful, wrought with beautiful melodies, interesting dynamics and epic goodness. Seriously, I'm very proud of our progression as songwriters. I'll have more information on all of this very soon.
So it's around 3am right now, signifying that we're well into sunday and a few hours away from having dried out my vacation time. My last semester of studies in computer sciences shall be resumed tommorow, and serious... no... fucking downright biblical measures will be taken to insure my use of the word "last" in this sentence isn't straight fallacious. Sure, I despise computer sciences and I have a certain lack of interest for my end of session project, but I enjoy studying, I enjoy learning, reading, writing, critiquing, discussing, informing.. all positive things I have to look forward to once I'm through with this, and as stated before: that should be more than enough motivation to cleave through it with vigor and passion. Let this be my manifesto.
Finally, there's this other situation that's been looming over me for a certain period and for reasons of integrity and tact, I will not go into the immaculate details here. Blogs have a tendency of becoming the breeding ground for vile speculation and petty over-dramatizing when it's writers indulge in the all-too personal. I've mostly stayed clear of that and I shall continue. I feel there are more creative and fulfilling methods of confronting a subject than outright open-book ranting. Anyways, all I wish to iterate is that after what seemed like a snarling, vicious, obscenity-laden knife fight between my ego, id and super-ego, I've come to grips and have become comfortable with that which has been bothering me. All that is left is to make this clear to the parties involved, and see what results that ultimately brings. Someone wiser than me said it best: "... either way, we're here..." . Forgive my being so ambiguous, but I don't think I'd have it any other way. However, I am curious as to how many people will read this paragraph and wholly misinterpret it.
Okay... it's late and all these halos around the bright objects in my room are starting to annoy the hell out of me. I hope everyone has a nice and pleasant March 6th and I will be back with something on Wednesday, no shit. In the meantime go listen to the Album Leaf, Lou Barlow, the new live Mogwai record, Bloc Party and Mono. Oh and go watch I (heart) Huckabees, it'll cheer you up. Cheers.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Review: Buried Inside - Chronoclast
A few posts ago, I promised I'd write up a review for Buried Inside's newest, Chronoclast. Here it is. I hope it winds up being more coherent and informative than your average obscure Pitchfork-esque indie-rock name drop exercise. Long? Yes, very. Sincere? Most definitely.
Chronoclast: Selected Essays on Time Reckoning and Auto-Canibalism
Buried Inside
Relapse Records
released: November 9th 2004 (Canada), February 1st (Everywhere else)
The use of the word "objectivity" as something factual and tangible is something that has a tendency to irk me quite abit. The very existence of that word and concept baffles me to no end since there is no such thing, it's quite simply a glaring fallacy. Subjectivity on the other hand is something very real, something real life decisions consistenly hang on. The fact that Buried Inside are from what I more or less consider my home town (Ottawa), that they're some of the nicest chaps I've ever met and that one of their guitar players (Andrew Tweedy) is responsible for doing an amazing job on the mixing and mastering of my own band's record, are all factors that would serve to make this review lean considerably on the subjective side. So it's with quite a bit of regret and disdain that I'll assure you that I tried to make this piece as 'objective' as possible. Ouch, that hurt.
So how does Chronoclast, the band's Relapse Records debut, fare? Well I honestly believe it to be one of the most epic, moving and uniformly coherent 'heavy music' records in quite some time. The album is basically built as one gigantic 40 minute song, divided into 10 defined tracks, with consistently recurring themes on both the lyrical and musical fronts throughout. Lyrically, Chronoclast is a study and analysis of time as an imperial construct for the regulation of capitalist economy and of time as the primary societal control. In the hand's (or voice) of a lesser vocalist, the lyrical content, while brilliant and masterfully written, might've come off as slightly pretentious or even self-indulgent, but Nick Shaw's impassioned vocal delivery manages to give his socio-political rhetoric great heft, weight and relevance. He simply sounds genuinely fucking pissed-off. There's even a logical flow to the ideas that are conveyed, each song illustrating a different facet of time's hegemony on modern culture (i.e. religion and imperialism). Ultimately, the band's message strives for a certain emancipation of conscience among individuals, for people to simply question and potentially critique this man-made paradigm, something that isn't anchored in fact, but merely taken for granted.
Thankfully, the band's music comes off just as incendiary as it's politics. Buried Inside manages to mesh both blistering and conceptually epic heaviness on Chronoclast, downplaying the agression at times for passages of brooding, uncertain calm. The sound is ultimately their own, but comparisons to a sped-up Isis or an insanely dark and violent Explosions in the Sky could be made for the sake of bland categorization. The first thing to leap out of the soundscape is Mike Godbout's absolutely spectacular and truly deft drumming, setting the stage with frenetic energy and creativity rarely seen among bands in the hardcore/metal genre. Andrew Tweedy and Matias Palacios Hardy build intricately woven harmonized melodies and monolithic walls of sound with their guitars, opting for texturing, coloring and amplifying the compositions over your standard rock riffing. Holding all of this together is Steve Martin's nimble bass playing. He is the main driving force behind these songs, his riffs tugging the guitars along through every structural twist and turn, every peak and valley and ultimately adding a rythmic complexity that is rarely seen in rock music, let alone hardcore. Finally, Matt Bayles' (Botch, Isis, Minus The Bear) production on this record leaves very little to be desired, everything generally sounding crisp, clear and thick, even amidst the intense chaos that the band tends to stir up at times. It might not be his best work this year (for that, check out Isis' Panopticon), but it's still more than respectable.
Honestly, I have very few gripes with this record. The lyrics are powerful, the music is devastatingly epic and the package is lovely (brilliant artwork, lyrics and litterary quotes accompanying all songs, all in a beautiful quality booklet). My one complaint lies with the lack of variety of technique used in the guitar playing, mainly it seems the band relied too much on the fast strumming of octave chords to set up their melodies. Although admittedly, the repeat use of a single technique gives Chronoclast the cohesion Buried Inside was striving for, it's something I view as a minor lacking simply because I have a musician's perspective on it (regardless, I could never write such memorable music, even given the widest breadth of skill). Chronoclast is a true achievement, a brilliantly heavy, melodic and intelligent piece that even the most jaded of indie-music snobs would appreciate (this reviewer most definitely included) and it is entirely deserving of your time. Go pick it up. Now.
- Jean-Michel
Chronoclast: Selected Essays on Time Reckoning and Auto-Canibalism
Buried Inside
Relapse Records
released: November 9th 2004 (Canada), February 1st (Everywhere else)
The use of the word "objectivity" as something factual and tangible is something that has a tendency to irk me quite abit. The very existence of that word and concept baffles me to no end since there is no such thing, it's quite simply a glaring fallacy. Subjectivity on the other hand is something very real, something real life decisions consistenly hang on. The fact that Buried Inside are from what I more or less consider my home town (Ottawa), that they're some of the nicest chaps I've ever met and that one of their guitar players (Andrew Tweedy) is responsible for doing an amazing job on the mixing and mastering of my own band's record, are all factors that would serve to make this review lean considerably on the subjective side. So it's with quite a bit of regret and disdain that I'll assure you that I tried to make this piece as 'objective' as possible. Ouch, that hurt.
So how does Chronoclast, the band's Relapse Records debut, fare? Well I honestly believe it to be one of the most epic, moving and uniformly coherent 'heavy music' records in quite some time. The album is basically built as one gigantic 40 minute song, divided into 10 defined tracks, with consistently recurring themes on both the lyrical and musical fronts throughout. Lyrically, Chronoclast is a study and analysis of time as an imperial construct for the regulation of capitalist economy and of time as the primary societal control. In the hand's (or voice) of a lesser vocalist, the lyrical content, while brilliant and masterfully written, might've come off as slightly pretentious or even self-indulgent, but Nick Shaw's impassioned vocal delivery manages to give his socio-political rhetoric great heft, weight and relevance. He simply sounds genuinely fucking pissed-off. There's even a logical flow to the ideas that are conveyed, each song illustrating a different facet of time's hegemony on modern culture (i.e. religion and imperialism). Ultimately, the band's message strives for a certain emancipation of conscience among individuals, for people to simply question and potentially critique this man-made paradigm, something that isn't anchored in fact, but merely taken for granted.
Thankfully, the band's music comes off just as incendiary as it's politics. Buried Inside manages to mesh both blistering and conceptually epic heaviness on Chronoclast, downplaying the agression at times for passages of brooding, uncertain calm. The sound is ultimately their own, but comparisons to a sped-up Isis or an insanely dark and violent Explosions in the Sky could be made for the sake of bland categorization. The first thing to leap out of the soundscape is Mike Godbout's absolutely spectacular and truly deft drumming, setting the stage with frenetic energy and creativity rarely seen among bands in the hardcore/metal genre. Andrew Tweedy and Matias Palacios Hardy build intricately woven harmonized melodies and monolithic walls of sound with their guitars, opting for texturing, coloring and amplifying the compositions over your standard rock riffing. Holding all of this together is Steve Martin's nimble bass playing. He is the main driving force behind these songs, his riffs tugging the guitars along through every structural twist and turn, every peak and valley and ultimately adding a rythmic complexity that is rarely seen in rock music, let alone hardcore. Finally, Matt Bayles' (Botch, Isis, Minus The Bear) production on this record leaves very little to be desired, everything generally sounding crisp, clear and thick, even amidst the intense chaos that the band tends to stir up at times. It might not be his best work this year (for that, check out Isis' Panopticon), but it's still more than respectable.
Honestly, I have very few gripes with this record. The lyrics are powerful, the music is devastatingly epic and the package is lovely (brilliant artwork, lyrics and litterary quotes accompanying all songs, all in a beautiful quality booklet). My one complaint lies with the lack of variety of technique used in the guitar playing, mainly it seems the band relied too much on the fast strumming of octave chords to set up their melodies. Although admittedly, the repeat use of a single technique gives Chronoclast the cohesion Buried Inside was striving for, it's something I view as a minor lacking simply because I have a musician's perspective on it (regardless, I could never write such memorable music, even given the widest breadth of skill). Chronoclast is a true achievement, a brilliantly heavy, melodic and intelligent piece that even the most jaded of indie-music snobs would appreciate (this reviewer most definitely included) and it is entirely deserving of your time. Go pick it up. Now.
- Jean-Michel
Monday, January 24, 2005
Friday, January 21, 2005
A brief update before I return...
Well woah... I haven't been around these parts in quite awhile. I figured I'd just specify that I am still amongst the living (albeit barely) and that I'll be doing a nice lengthy update of this in the coming days. One of my many New Year's resolutions is to practice writing more, so I'll be updating this entirely more often, with constructive, informative and immensely thrilling content on a semi-regular basis, rejoice! So yeah, cheers to everyone and I do sincerely hope everyone is doing good. Oh yeah, although I'm very conscious that I am very much behind on this, everyone should go listen to Mineral's The Power of Failing right this instant. Yes that's right, close this window, fire up soulseek and download away, you can all thank me later.
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