Rocking Me Like So Many Hurricanes.

I drink not only too much caffeine but I also can’t keep my hand steady enough to type a coherent sentence on a keyboard… so the things this guy does with balancing stones blows my mind.

When I see people doing this kind of thing at the riverfront park in Boulder, it always makes me just want to be the jerk that knocks them over, and then instead of picking a fight with me, they just calmly hand me a rock, and I have this moment of clarity where I try to balance it, simultaneously realizing the senselessness of my destruction and the emptiness of my life, and then I learn something, and we bond, and then we fade into a montage of how I change my life in so many ways, inter-cut with increasingly complex rock balancing sculptures… and it’s a movie called Soft Rock.

————————————————————————-

Yo Buster. Your umbrella got silently turned inside-out.

Wah Wah.

Pretty snazzy documentary about  the wah wah pedal. Good to watch for any rock history dorks.

———————————————————————–

Speaking of things NOT rock, Justice Beaver and how John Waters went to go see his movie in Baltimore.

Infinite Volume- Broken Social Scene.

My lovely lady friend and I have this ongoing list of things that we wish we could hear at infinite volume inside our heads. Hers is a much more aggressive list mostly because she’s hard and from the streets and I’m soft and from the ‘burbs.

But we went to Broken Social Scene the other night at the Boulder Theater and I experienced infinite volume. I had first had this back in ’05 when they were at the same place with Feist only back then, I didn’t know how to describe it. I got it again at the Fox Theater in ’07 (maybe ’08?) when it was the Spirit If… tour. And I got it a just last night when they came through with a more filled out roster again.

It’s this feeling that the music is coming from inside you. It’s not coming from the speakers no matter how loud they get or how many of them surround you. For example, Mogwai was easily the loudest show I’ve ever experienced. It was physically painful and made me nauseous at times, but it still felt like the sound was coming from outside of me. Infinite volume comes from inside your head and is part of a transcendental experience. I probably just sound like a big bitch yammering on about this but I’m a fan of BSS and they melted my face. And I was glad to have my face melted with my lady there to pick up the melty goop.

I can’t wait to see them again some day. If I ever get the pleasure of meeting them I’d like to thank them for granting me my wish to hear their music at infinite volume inside of my brain.

—————————————————————————–

Sex Cauldron?! I thought they closed that place down!

B-Cards Suck.

I just went to go do another business card because you know, I’ve handed out about 6 of the last 500 I printed 5 years ago. So I’m due.

If I try to design my own, it makes me feel like a failure.

If I look at template ones, I end up coming across stuff like this with a crunchy camera jockey that has his hasselblad on a nice tripod and a matching d-bag pony tail.

Maybe I should just go with the opposite approach and make the shittiest card that I possibly can. Maybe I’ll draw it with crayons and have some backwards R letters in there. And when some one says “this looks like a retarded toddler designed this,” then I’ll say, “My son drew that up for me and I thought it was sweet of him but I’m glad to know what you think of my family now.”

And then I’ll never get work again.

———————————————————————————-

Just washing the old rib cage.

Three Clicks.

Listening to NPR makes me feel like a real live grown-up. Especially when I hear things on it like this story about how vinyl is made. And then I go home and listen to a bunch of records and act all snobby towards the damn kid walking by on the sidewalk by telling him to get a haircut because no one likes a Bieber.

I generally don’t give two shits about The Atlantic but then this little ditty they have about the history of fuzz in rock music was pretty sweet. That last song sample using the thumb piano thing was pretty great.

And in another non sequitur, here is a list of inventors who were killed by their own inventions which is probably the coolest way to go out ever. Offed by your own making.

————————————————————————-

Hive me me once, shame on me. Hive five my skin right off, shame on you.