What I wake up to...

The Mustache of '76

Oh my goodness, Oh my gosh, It's Peter Miller.

I'll Red Fox your Grey Fox.

A Mission.

Diagonal Dave.

Heels and Pedals

Maudlin... in a town near you.

Matthew, not Matt.

Why I'm the worst music journalist... ever.

I'm too cool to be a music journalist.  My nature tells me to remain cool when the perfect music journalist would be grabbing pen, paper, and camera.  I like musicians too much to harass them, and frankly, I still haven't figured out why I should care about their lives.  Tell me when the next album will be, what it might sound like, and when the tour will come by my casa.   When standing next to The Kooks a month ago I believe my only comment was on the weather.  "I love the blue skies and hail... it's quite the mixture" is all I could muster.  The perfect music journalist would have asked, with pen and paper ready, something along the lines of "How does it feel to be in America where you're starting from the beginning again to gain that huge following you've already got back home in the U.K.?"  Doesn't that sound so official?  I would have then pulled out my camera and taken amazing photos of them standing in their plastic rain ponchos looking so European with their layers, military boots and grey/brown clothing.  Oh, but I would have no longer been cool.  I would have been using their popularity for my personal gain... thus no longer cool.  

My ultimate plan then?  I will go another avenue... the back alley way par se.  Let's imagine a world where I can actually help bands reach their goals, whatever those goals may be.  One band might just want to play local shows, another band might want to tour or make a record.  I'd like to help them do their thing and write about that process.  The passion of the everyday artist is much more interesting to me than the story of the man who has already made it to the top of the world.  

When I was in high school, a good seven years ago, a band called "Mount Vernon" played around town and I, along with most of my peers, could not miss a show.  Now this is in the days of my listening to N'Sync so this band was my only connection to good music.  Mount Vernon eventually dismantled and all were sad, but Justin Vernon continued to pack every little venue he played in our horribly hidden Midwestern city.  I thought things like, "man, this guy is good too bad he's not from a bigger city."  My going to college saw me forgetting Mr. Vernon and his sorry plight.  Do you sense a fairy tale ending coming on? You should.  

A roommate of mine mentioned an artist named Bon Iver.  I listened to his stuff and loved it, and then I started seeing his name everywhere.  Spin, Filter, and Paste magazines all had stories on this guy.  Paste magazine went as far as to say he should be in the running for the best album of 2008.  Shock and awe came when I read an article that revealed Bon Iver's real name... you guessed it... Justin Vernon.  

I'm done with college and back to my hometown.  Yesterday, while looking up articles on Bon Iver, Justin Vernon walked into the cafe I've been at all this week.  Regulars nodded as he ordered his coffee and sat down on a couch with a friend of his.  The perfect music journalist met with the cool journalist and cool journalist won (which means I stayed seated and did not approach).  From afar I considered my incredibly talented friends that come from horribly hidden Midwestern towns.  Good luck men and women.  How can I help and when can I tell your story?

"I thought about you all day..."

The Kooks concert...

I'd really love it if you'd look my way...