There's snow business like show business

There are things about my home that I will always miss. Not that I've left yet, mind you, but I think of them and experience them in the now with a slight twinge of longing or the anticipation thereof. I woke up this morning to find my city covered with snow. Not just covered, but lightly dusted. Like God made a beautiful drawing out of charcoal. When the wind kicks up, the ashes and sediment do their little dances.

I took a hike up to and all around Holy Land USA today. It was originally built as a sort of religious theme park complete with miniature recreations of Jerusalem (including major landmarks such as Herod's temple) that was eventually abandoned when the caretaker and principle investor died. Since that time many Waterbury natives and curious tourists have made the trek, most leaving behind their mark in the form of graffiti, used condoms and empty liquor bottles. While many consider it an eyesore as a result of this vandalism, I see it as an avatar for my city itself.

Waterbury, much like Holy Land immediately after construction, once held a certain element of purity to it. The people involved at their respective peaks were idealistic, optimistic, hopeful beyond all compare. Generally when such things fall into disrepair, it is a tragedy. To me, however, this disintegration has only served to emphasize the heart and spirit that lay behind the construct - both the city and the site held love and affection in that very old and very romantic sense, something simultaneously eccentric and innocent. As the corners chip and the facades begin to crack, the soul shines through for those willing to look for it.


Here's what I listened to on my hike;

Espers - Tomorrow.mp3

Espers - Black Is The Color.mp3

Espers - Rosemary Lane.mp3

Barking Backwards

Love, at it's best, is an eraser. Your identity as an individual ceases to matter, you as a singular entity are erased, removed from the stream of collective consciousness like a fish from water. The elements that make up your "self", your idea of identity are absorbed into something greater. Two people look at one mirror from opposite sides and see a being that is neither here nor there, me nor you, his nor hers. It is an amalgamation of two personae, upsetting at first glance not because this new visage is hideous but rather because it is so utterly unlike anything else and eventually realized to be of such unutterable beauty that to even describe outside of the moment, outside of the actual experience of it's being is to do an injustice to a disarmingly graceful creature.

That is love, yes, but there is something even greater and even more dangerous - unconditional love. If love brings two together as one strangely beautiful genetic mishap, unconditional love completes the transformation into a complete spirit-thing. There are no more unsightly malformations left over from the joining, no odd toes or extra limbs, just porcelain-like continuity.
-The danger is in the follow through. Unless both people see this joining through to the end, one will be left with half a mind, half a body. The process unto completion is one of careful interplay, a scared recitation of a holy dialogue, a reading from a play that God wrote. The process aborted is a rending of the flesh and the soul that is unlike any other.

But, despite this danger, it is still something to be glorified, something to be championed and cherished. I'll always prefer the slow dance and the quiet bed. Here are some songs to help me explain why;

Paleo - Forever in Dog Years.mp3

Paleo - The Rabbitfoot Tree.mp3

The Low Lows - Disappearer.mp3

The Low Lows - Raining in Eva.mp3

Look over there ------------> for links to these respective artist's websites/myspaces.

To be "cold rolling" is to be confident in an alien environment

Oh God, not another mp3 blog.

Well, maybe it's not quite that.

Maybe, in reality, this is a man whispering at a wall.

Whatever it may be, whatever it may become, this is where I'll be sharing things that are of all types of importance to me (i.e. great, little, none, immeasurable). Most of the time it will involve music to some extent, but knowing me (who is?) this will eventually expand to encompass quite a bit more.

So let us begin, shall we?

Bastardgeist, according to the internet, are from Portland. Then again, who isn't/doesn't want to be these days? What makes Bastardgeist remarkable to me in particular is something that falls somewhere in between an air of mystery and a sense of complete familiarity. I haven't heard much from them to be honest, just what they've got on their myspace (the particular selection I'll be sharing comes from an album called 'SKLL SKLL SKULL 69 SKLL ATOMIC BOMB'), but what I've heard thus far has been impressive. Bastardgeist make tiny soundscapes that sound like important and meaningful experiences, little epiphanies and snapshots of conscience that I forgot I had. Someone else's memory that I feel strangely at home in.

This being said, I offer the following tracks for your enjoyment. The first is called 'Dahdahs' and will surely thrill you if you've always wished Yann Tiersen wrote calliope music for Tom Waits or Mark Linkous to play. 'ALPS' sounds like a bunch of Native American dolphins smoking drugs around a fire.

Bastardgeist - Dahdahs.mp3

Bastardgeist - Alps.mp3

Incidentally, all offered mp3's are for your personal enjoyment solely. If you like something you hear, please support the artist by purchasing the album legally.

Enjoy.