WHAT THE HECK is a Buck-Townsend Users' Manual? Good
question. The name comes from an ill-fated newsletter that never
got off the ground and has nothing to do with TWBA, per se. But
we liked the name and decided to steal it for our web site. In
this case, the manual amounts to a bare bones blog (below), which
will read more like a diary, since it doesn't include comments
and whatnot, and an even simpler 'zine (right), which will consist
of three questions posed to, well, whoever will talk to us.
2E C E N T S
3 JULY, 2010
Beyond the lighted stage | Just
finished watching the Rush documentary, Beyond
the Lighted Stage, which came today in the mail, courtesy
of Amazon.com. Yes, we're Rush geeks. It helps that a certain
9-year-old drummer we know worships at the altar of Neil Peart.
The
movie sort of cemented in my mind an opinion that has slowly
been forming for me, which is that Rush, along with being highly
underrated and underappreciated over the years, deserves to be
mentioned in the same breath as bands like the Who and U2 and
maybe even the Beatles (sacrilege!). Obviously, they'll never
be as critically acclaimed or commercially successful, but their
influence on modern music can't be overstated. The luminaries
interviewed in the documentary ranged from Billy Corgan to Jack
Black, and everyone came back to the same thing, which is that
Rush found a way to be earnest and virtuous and totally themselves
and still carve out a loyal following.
When grunge hit in the early
90s, I kind of assumed that was the final nail in the coffin
of musical virtuosity in general and bands like Rush in particular.
Punk won. But maybe not. The music of Rush, as Jack Black so
aptly put it, has stood the test of time. It still holds up.
As for the people behind it, I continue to be surprised at how
witty and downright silly the band members are, especially Alex
Lifeson. "I love drinking wine," he says as they're
tying one on at the dinner table, credits rolling. "It tastes
fantastic, and it makes you feel funny!"
- Matt
17 MAY, 2010
When lightning strikes | We
know the coolest people. Gabriel Edwards, longtime friend and
fan of the band, took some amazing footage (shot from the CTA
Red Line in Chicago during an electrical storm) and blended it
with one of our songs, "Free Tonight," to make a lovely,
eerie video:
- Matt
10 MAY, 2010
Live at the Skylark | As promised,
we have video footage from our show at the Skylark last month.
We had hoped to use the audio from the mixing board, but as it
turned out, the camera audio sounded more, well, natural. So
here it is, "Deeper" (North
by Nowhere):
Thanks again
to Tracy Brooks and crew, all of whom did an amazing job without
any fuss or direction from us.
- Matt
15 APRIL, 2010
Sunday fun |
Sunday's show at the
Skylark was most lovely.
Special thanks to ADHD
for opening – and to Alex for putting the whole evening
together. Thanks as well to Jen and Way
South for finishing the evening in grand fashion. We were
proud to be the peanut butter and jelly.
We also want to extend a thank-you to
Tracy Brooks, his wife Ann, and their crew (Chuck and Michelle),
each of whom came armed with a video camera. Tracy will be collaborating
with our drummer Matt Bleckert in order to put together a clip
or two for YouTube. Mr. Bleckert has in his possession the live
audio tracks, taken straight from the mixing board, which he
plans to mix and then sync up with the video. I bet it'll be
fancy!
- Matt K.
6 APRIL, 2010
The boobs are back |
Remember the original
North by Nowherecover?
We called it the "angry C-cups" cover and grew tired
of it quickly. After the initial pressing, we replaced it with
a lovely image culled from the Wisconsin
Historical Society Archives. Well, it's time to press some
more CDs, and guess what? It's back to the angry C-cups for us.
Why? Well, when we changed covers the first time, we had already
released the album digitally, which means CD
Baby, I-Tunes,
and everybody else on the planet had already committed to using
the original cover. So rather than sell an album with two covers,
we're going back to the original one to avoid confusion (heaven
knows we're confused enough on a daily basis already). So there
you have it. More boobs. Less romantic black and white photos
from yesteryear.
- Matt
30 MARCH, 2010
Halved avocado | A couple
months back, as painfully detailed in a post below,
I went in for a colonoscopy that didn't work out so well. Long
story short: the sedation didn't take and I spazzed out on the
table.
Having done a bit of research
and consulted with a different clinic in the interim, I went
in for another colonoscopy this morning and was given propofol,
the drug that played a big factor in Michael Jackson's tragic
death. I worried that might be an awful omen, but everything
turned out fine. I slept like a baby through the whole procedure
-- and came around quickly once it was over. Phew.
The doctor who did the honors is a fellow
runner, so we got to talk marathons beforehand, and the assistants
and the anesthesiologist all treated me well, especially after
it took three tries to get an IV started. Poke. Poke. Poke. We
have a winner! (And three bandages to show for it...) The doc
did find and snip a tiny, 4mm sessile polyp
in my transverse colon. Note how happy and pink that colon is.
A biopsy of the polyp will be studied in the clinic's pathology
lab as a matter of routine but was not a cause for concern (knock
on large pieces of authentic wood). I ended up with all sorts
of fun pictures and am tempted show you more. But I'd rather
describe one. Did you know that your rectum from the inside out
looks like a halved avocado?
- Matt
29 MARCH, 2010
The gods of rock, the Man Cave, etc.
| March has been a fun month for us. We were treated
to a very unique experience at Lake
Washington United Methodist Church in Kirkland, where we
played a little concert in their beautiful sanctuary and learned
in the process that churches are built for rock and roll. Man,
it sounded good in there! Thanks to the congregation for making
a bunch of heathens feel welcome.
A week later we entered the Man
Cave here in Tacoma, where we sat in on a podcast with the friendly
and entertaining crew at the Northwest
Convergence Zone. You can hear the full interview courtesy
of their archives.
- Matt
23 FEBRUARY,
2010
Post-show glow | It's
always fun to hear back from people after a show. The e-mail
below is from Alex in Seattle (bass player and lead vox for ADHD), who
wrote us after Saturday night's little gig at the Mandolin
Cafe:
You guys sounded terrific. I am a musician, and
a prog-rock guy; For me, the ideal is where I can focus in on
any single instrument and get a lot out of it, then listen to
the "tapestry" woven by the interplay of the instruments.
I had a LOT of that Saturday, very blissed out. The songwriting
is excellent as well, and MB carries a lot of emotion in her
voice, so all in all the music took me out of Tacoma AND Ballard
for an hour or so. Great stuff.
I was floored by Greg. A VERY talented player indeed.
Not surprised a bass player noticed
Greg's playing. The dude makes me dizzy.
- Matt
13 JANUARY, 2010
Colon blow
| So because my mom had colon cancer in her thirties,
it's accepted wisdom in the medical community that I must
have a colonoscopy now every five years in order to screen for
cancer. Never mind that I eat well, train vigorously year round,
have an extremely efficient digestive system, etc.
I actually had a colonoscopy
in my mid twenties after a nasty bout with giardia,
just to make sure that my protracted recovery couldn't be attributed
to anything else. For that one, I was given a sedative that kept
me conscious throughout but saved me from any painful recollections
due to its amnesiac properties. Thus, I had no memory of telling
the doctor to "get that thing out of my ass!" But I
guess that's what I said, among other things (I told my sister
all about it on the way home, before promptly, mercifully forgetting
the whole ordeal).
For this one, I warned my primary physician
that my last one was a nightmare and that I didn't take well
to the whole experience. No worries, he assured me. Colonoscopies
have come a long way since my last one. After waiting as long
as I felt comfortable before the referral expired, I dutifully
called the clinic and made an appointment. While speaking to
the receptionist, I also warned her: my last one was hell. No
worries, she assured me. Our doctors are the best. You won't
feel or remember a thing.
So Sunday I stuck with the clear
liquid diet, as directed. At 6 p.m., I began consuming one gallon
of yummy laxatives.
The rumblings began about forty-five minutes later, and by eight
o'clock, I was making regular, urgent trips to the bathroom.
I gave up at midnight, having managed to finish 3/4ths of the
regime (I was clean as a whistle by now). Then I popped my two
prescribed pills (powerful laxatives designed to work first thing
the next morning, just in case there's anything left) and tried
to sleep. I'm proud to say there were no accidents. But I did
have to get up for the 10-meter toilet sprint a couple times.
Flash forward to 8:45 a.m. the
next morning. Despite my insurance company's best efforts to
rewrite my referral (twice) in order to make me pay for 50% of
it (even though the procedure is considered preventative medicine
and is covered under my plan), I fork over only a small co-pay,
as guaranteed by my original referral. Then after a short wait
it's into the admitting room, where I put on my gown, sign lots
of papers, and tell the nurse about that one time when I fainted
after a phlebotomist couldn't find my vein during a routine blood
draw. She, being the sweet and understanding and highly competent
professional that she is, says she'll hook up my I.V. while I'm
lying prone on a gurney. Good idea, I think. But then she has
trouble with the I.V. (it won't take) and can't help commenting,
"Would you look at that!" when she removes the botched
I.V. I don't open my eyes and continue deep breathing. But I
can imagine the geyser of blood just fine. Another nurse arrives
and jams an I.V. into my other arm. Ouch. At least it takes.
I'm sweating now. They put a
washcloth on my forehead and leave me alone to wait. More sweating.
More deep breathing. Despite everyone's good intentions, I'm
realizing this clinic runs a colonoscopy factory. I'm being herded
through a maze of checkpoints, being passed off from one person
to another. Of course I told the first nurse about my lousy experience
the last time I had a colonoscopy. Of course she said this one
would be no sweat. In fact, I could go out for a run later that
day, she said, although I might get lost, due to the sedative
that would still be coursing through my veins.
So now I'm being wheeled into
the procedure room. It's dimly lit and adorned with machines that go bing, as the old Monty Python sketch goes. I think the
ambience is supposed to be relaxing, but it strikes me as a tad
spooky. The doctor, seated at a desk, has his back to me and
is quietly filling out paperwork from the last case. Colonoscopy
factory, indeed. When he finally turns to greet me, he skips
straight to the heart of the matter: I absolutely must have a
colonoscopy every five years. "I better get good at this,"
I reply. More banter about how my mom died of breast cancer and
that there's a gene that proves colon cancer and breast cancer
are directly related. Is this to comfort me? Get me in the proper
mood?
The anesthesiologist, meanwhile,
is struggling with the I.V. We might need to start a new one
(Number 3!). More sweating. I'm watching my blood pressure rise
on one of the machines. My heart rate, thanks to years of running,
is still only in the low sixties. Of course, as dehydrated and
depleted as I am (skinny guys shouldn't fast), I probably couldn't
muster much of a heartbeat if I tried.
Finally, the I.V. is functional,
and after a few seconds of conversation I can't remember, all
goes black. I've been given two layers of sedation: 100mg of
Meperidine
(Demerol) and 10mg of Midazolam
(Versed). My next few memories are patchy. Feeling dizzy and
wanting to lie on the cool tiles next to a toilet (while the
nurses are trying to help me dress myself). Mary Beth and Gibson
coming into the recovery room to check on me (apparently I am
bathed in sweat and am a nifty shade of gray). A brief struggle
to sit up. More resting. The doctor's face appears in the curtains.
Bad news. The procedure had to be aborted because I basically
freaked out on the table. He asks if I'm bipolar or take sedatives
or drink alcohol before bedtime. I think this is called bedside
manner. The answer to all three: no. In my groggy state I look
to MB for reassurance. "After sixteen years of marriage,
I think I'd know if you were bipolar, honey," she says.
Whew. "Make sure to reschedule another colonoscopy before
you leave," the doctor says before making his exit. I'll
need to use a different clinic, of course, one that is equipped
to use actual anesthesia.
More brief flashes of memory.
I don't fully come to until later that evening, when the reality
of what has happened to me sets in. I feel... apocalyptic. I
don't have cancer. I know it. Or do I? I don't need to suffer
through another one of these? Or do I? Maybe they'll get the
drugs right the third time. Maybe someone will listen to me when
I try to tell them about my previous experiences. Maybe I'll
end up in the emergency room with a perforated colon. Or dead
on the table from my reaction to the anesthesia. What are the
odds? Which ones should I fear the most? The ones belonging to
the cancer or the procedure?
The next day feels just as dark.
My short term memory has returned. Mary Beth fills me in on moments
I can't remember, moments she gleaned from conversations with
the doctor and the nurses. How I was apparently howling in pain,
cursing the poor doctor, and demanding that he stop the procedure.
How they tried giving me even more sedative, to no avail. How
the nurses said I was as green-faced as the Wicked
Witch of the West afterward. How I made stupid jokes as soon
as I was able to sit up. How she had to explain everything to
me twice, three times, on and on. I can't do this again. Can
I?
Tonight, two days post-procedure,
I feel myself again, more or less. I managed a short but effortless
run in the rain (I'm lighter now!). If I ever go in for
another colonoscopy, I will interview the doctor first. I will
interview the anesthesiologist. If they listen to my story, if
they see me as more than the next case to be hurried through,
I might feel safe in their hands. Regardless, I'll continue to
eat well, run hard, and enjoy my beautiful family.
- Matt
5 JANUARY, 2010
Happy New Year (S.A.D.) | Okay,
the holidays are over, the Christmas tree has been dismantled,
and it's time to settle in for the gloom. I think I'll go running
in the rain.
- Matt
13 DECEMBER,
2009
Sugar dreams | My mom
wasn't the greatest cook on the planet (sorry, Mom!), but she
was peerless when it came to baking. Mary Beth and I got lucky
enough one Christmas-time to bake with her (while MB and I were
still dating) before she passed away from cancer. This month
I'm determined to make one of her signature holiday recipes,
a cookie called "Sugar Dreams." Each one melts in your
mouth, and it's easy to eat a half dozen in a few seconds. Any
stomach distress is well worth it. The recipe is short but includes
a few exotic items:
1 1/2 stick butter
2 cups sugar
2 1/4 cup flour
2/3 cup cooking oil
1 teaspoon Hjorthorn salt
1 tablespoon vanilisocker
Stir the butter and sugar till
fluffy. Add the oil. Mix separately the flour, vanilla sugar,
and Hjorthorn salt. Combine both mixtures. Make teaspoon-size
balls. Bake 12 minutes (until firm, not brown) at 325 degrees.
Pig out.
I used to go to a little Scandinavian
foods and baking supplies shop in Ballard to get the Hjorthorn
salt (baker's
ammonia) and vanilisocker (vanilla
sugar), but alas, that store is gone. So I went online and
found everything I needed at Gift
Chalet. Yum.
- Matt
21 NOVEMBER,
2009
Questions from Bolivia | Every
few months or so, I get an e-mail from somebody in Bolivia wondering
about the origins of our name (see the FAQ on our bio
page). Replying in an intelligible manner can be dicey, especially
when the sender writes his or her inquiry in Spanish. But I was
able to read and reply in Spanish to the latest missive, from
Henry in Sucre,
by using this most useful site.
I'm multi-lingual now!
- Matt
6 NOVEMBER, 2009
E-mail of the week | Arriving
in my inbox last night was a much appreciated review of North by Nowhere from Brian
Kawano, long-time TWBA afficianado and recent Missouri-by-way-of-Texas
transplant:
Awesome album.
Each song is different from the next, so the album is varied
instead of sounding like one song over and over again. The individual
songs are also textured rather than being a wall of solid sound.
Mary Beth's voice is clear whether it is soft or loud. The acoustic
and electric guitars are understated, which makes the "let's-crank-it-up"
parts really pop.
Another great
TWBA album. I usually like the louder songs more than the softer
ones, but this album is great all the way through.
Many moons ago, Brian started
showing up fairly regularly at our Seattle gigs. For a long time
he was just "that mysterious guy with the black leather
jacket." Then we introduced ourselves. (I probably tripped
on him or something.) From there, we started talking before and
after shows, begging him to take our beer tickets, and so on.
It's always cool to hear from a long-time friend of the band,
especially after he wanders off to the heartland.
Cold blooded | During
my last blog, I became a bit distracted. Some might say, "carried
away." It's my intention to stay the course this time, but
if you know me, you know I have a tendency to become distracted
during conversation, to hopelessly go where no conversation intended
to go. In my last blog, my original intention was to provide
details as to what it is I've been doing whilst Matt is passionately
dedicated to the band. And here I finally (uh, it's been what,
three months now?) get to that point...
As you read this blog, there is something
you should know. I'm cheating on you. You're thinking, "slut,"
and you're right. Indeed, down at the bottom of my screen here,
there is not one, but two open windows (however minimized the
other might be at the moment). The other open window is my connection,
my life-line if you will, to a place called BeardedDragon.org.
Those in my nuclear family might say that I'm a little obsessed
with this organization. But I believe it's important to point
out that it's not my fault, but the fault of one very special
creature named "Cloudy" -- named for the beautiful
pattern upon his scaly skin, which resembles that of a clouded
leopard, so says one named Gibson. Indeed, the same Gibson who
brought this dear creature into our home in the first place.
The same Gibson that Matt and I had intended to allow to care
for this new pet all on his own. The same Gibson who graciously
stepped aside when his baby dragon was ailing to allow his mother
to swoop in (helicopter style), take over, and totally bogart
his beardie. Yes, people, as Matt has worked tirelessly at keeping
this band going, everything from writing the songs, to booking
the shows, to updating the web site and handling all the annoying
administrative stuff, I have spent the better part of my time
over the past year... in service to a lizard.
A
few months in, I knew I had a problem. Yes, the lizard was Gibson's,
but there were questions floating about the house, such as: "Why
is Mom ALWAYS checking on my lizard?" "Why is Mom always
sneaking upstairs and eyeing the temperature gauge and changing
stuff around in the cage?" And "Why does Mom always
seem to have MY lizard on HER shoulder?!"
Allow me to explain. It all started
when we realized Cloudy wasn't well. He was eating but five crickets
a day and subsequently not growing much. He was waking up at
ten a.m. and asleep by two. I happened to find a bearded dragon
growth chart online and was alarmed to find out that not only
was Cloudy not growing well, he was grossly undersized by about,
oh, eight or nine inches! Eeek. Something was definitely wrong.
I came to learn that there was precious little about our pet-store-recommended
enclosure that was right. Grrr. I also came to learn that we
were far from alone in this, as the pet and pet supply industry
does this number on many hapless first-time reptile owners. The
horror.
That's
when I found "the org" and began reading. And after
several days of researching the ins and outs of "beardie
care"(yet another care that lacks a public option), I was
ready to perform the total enclosure refurbish. Operation Beardie
Grow was officially under way. And I'm proud to report it was
a success. And when Cloudy started to shed for the first time
in months, we cried happy tears (there may have been some dancing).
And when he had his first 100 bug day (not an exaggeration),
we cheered him on. And in this process of watching him grow,
watching him shed, watching him swim in the tub, singing to him,
tucking him in at night, cleaning up his poop, and snuggling
him every chance I got, I became hopelessly devoted to all things
beardie. I am what they refer to at the org as a "beardie
slave."
So know that as I write this,
I'm cheating on you (you whore!). For as I type away a
blog entry of how I became slave to a 17-inch herpetological
wonder (aka, big cutie-pie with scone-shaped head), I'm simultaneously
helping others learn how to do the same. During the writing of
this blog alone, I've managed to explain everything from the
importance of quality UVB
to the dangers
of calci-sand. And... I did it all while telling you this
story. And, I might add, while a beardie sits upon my right shoulder.
Yes, I certainly do lack discipline in certain areas of my life
(my wedding band is STILL on the bathroom shelf), but one could
never call into question my ability to multi-task. Or my tendency
to become completely passionate about whatever creature may happen
into my life, be it mammal, reptile, or whatever type of alien
my husband happens to be.
More later.
- mb
12 OCTOBER, 2009
Amnesty
at sea |
I've been meaning to
mention this for, oh, about ten months now, but a long-time friend
and fan of the band paid us the ultimate compliment two summers
ago when he bought a beautiful sailboat and named it after what
many consider our best album, Amnesty.
The quest began in the spring of 2008, when Ralph set his sights
on a Catalina
36 in Long Beach, and didn't come to a conclusion until last
May, when Amnesty's retrofit was completed. Ralph's attention
to detail is uncanny. He even nailed the font of the album, which
I couldn't name for you if I tried.You can read his running account
of the many trials and tribulations here.
- Matt
28 SEPTEMBER,
2009
Gray becomes us | Now that
I finally have my very own copy of No
Line on the Horizon (thank you, Mary Beth and Gibson!),
I can blab about U2's new album. As a diehard fan of the band
and its music, I'm not very objective, so bear with me.
I tend to lump U2's albums into
three categories: (1) soaring, anthem-like rock (Joshua
Tree, etc.), (2) visceral indie rock (Boy,
etc.), and (3) ambient or experimental rock (Achtung
Baby, etc.). I love it all, but I probably enjoy categories
two and three the most, especially the latter. I like it when
U2 seems lost.
No Line on the Horizon fits the third group the most closely,
although with some caveats. It doesn't transport you somewhere
like the murky, otherworldly The
Unforgettable Fire, which I often think of as U2's most
enchanting, most evocative album. Nor does it ooze the gritty
darkness of Achtung Baby, Zooropa,
or Pop.
Those albums pushed the limits of everybody, including U2's fans.
NLOTH does not. While it's clearly not a straight forward
rock album (excluding "Magnificent," I don't necessarily
hear any of the soaring hits we've come to expect from U2), it's
got more in common with All
That You Can't Leave Behind (minus the hits) than it
does Achtung Baby. It feels safe and familiar, even nostalgic,
despite the left-of-center approach. To paraphrase another review
I read somewhere recently, although U2 does some exploring on
NLOTH, it already seems to know where it's going.
Brian
Eno's influence on the
album is impossible to miss, which makes sense, since Eno and
Daniel Lanois get
credit for writing as well as production in the liner notes.
Not coincidentally, two of my favorite songs on the album are
the moody, atmospheric Eno-esque songs "FEZ-Being Born"
and the title track. But overall, NLOTH is a tad too tame,
too polished, and too familiar to be considered a truly experimental
album.
I'm wondering if I need a fourth
category of U2 albums: (4) a kinder, gentler rock. The previous
two albums definitely have what one might call milquetoast moments.
On All That You Can't Leave Behind, there is the anthem-like
"Beautiful Day" juxtaposed against harmless ditties
like the playful crooner "Wild Honey." On How
to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, there is the punkish, goat-throwing
"Vertigo" on the one hand and the lovely but perhaps
sentimental "A Man and a Woman" on the other. U2 has
in recent years begun to write unabashedly poppy songs -- adult
contemporary songs -- that don't in the least bit rock. NLOTH
is experimental at times, but always within a pretty safe space.
It never shocks or provokes.
But I seriously digress. Do I
like it? Yes. Despite the fact that the new album doesn't rival
anything that has come before it, despite the fact that it frustrates
my silly attempts to understand and categorize U2's music, it
continues to grow on me and seems perfect for a moody, gray day.
We'll likely get a few of those in the coming months.
- Matt
08 SEPTEMBER,
2009
Swiss Family
Massacre | A while back Gibson and I started a little
bedtime reading ritual where we read something off my bookshelf,
which is mostly relatively "high-brow" stuff. I figured,
what the heck, he's eight; he's ready for The
Metamorphosis. In fact, Gibson loved Kafka's masterpiece,
not to mention Adventures
of Huckleberry Finn and Sir
Gawain and the Green Knight.
So when we started reading my
ancient copy of The
Swiss Family Robinson (given to me by my late Grandpa
Kite when I was a kid), I figured this would be a respite from
the "serious literature" we'd been reading. Better
still, I'd never actually read the book and was excited to experience
it for the first time along with Gibson. Well, good grief. The
whole book is just a litany of death and destruction. When the
boys see something moving in the trees, they shoot it, skin it,
and eat it. Then they ask what it was. And when monkeys (erroneously
called "apes") make a mess of the family's farm/outpost,
the humans respond by massacring forty or so of the poor critters.
Later, they poison a bunch to death for being naughty marauders.
If it wasn't for all the violence,
we might be hung up on the fact that the fictitious island where
the family has been stranded is home to kangaroos, capybaras,
and giraffes, among other exotic species (the plants, too, are
from all over the world). But as it is, we just can't get over
the carnage. Every night when we start a new chapter, Gibson
says, "I wonder who they're gonna kill tonight, Dad."
- Matt
21 AUGUST, 2009
Long and puffy | I'd like
to be able to say that for the past several months of TWBA downtime
I have dedicated myself to getting the band back up and running
at a respectable pace. I would love to tell you that I have spent
countless hours of my time promoting, marketing, writing, recording,
and rehearsing (if you know me in the least, you understand that
that last one is EXTRA funny) in a feverish and unending effort
to keep this little thing we call "the band" from becoming
just one more thing that is placed upon the proverbial shelf,
not unlike many other beloved items that used to fit so well
but lately seem a smidge too tight. As it turns out, my wedding
ring is one such item. Okay, before anyone gets too freaked out
here, I'm not speaking of my wedding ring in the metaphorical
sense; rather, it really just got too tight.
It happened like this: a week
or so back, I awoke to an arthritic-like ache in my ring finger.
When I looked down at my left hand, I found my wedding and engagement
rings working as a savage team as they attempted to strangle
my poor, innocent digit. "Okay," I think, "I'm
having a puffy moment. I'm entitled. This too shall pass."
So, for a time, I was decidedly calm as I simply waited for my
body to "unpuff" as it usually does, once I
am upright and hydrated.
Sometime about early afternoon,
I was able to successfully remove (i.e., yank) my engagement
ring off with admittedly a significant amount of pain and suffering.
But I was buoyed by my success. I figured then that it was only
a matter of time before the band of gold would follow suit. I
thought to myself, "I'll just forget about it for now, try
again later, and I'm sure it will come off, no problem."
Alas (yes, I really just said the word alas), this little
"outward symbol" of our "inner commitment"
wasn't going down without a fight. Approximately six hours into
the ordeal, I'm having to admit to myself that my usual, sure-fire
tricks for unpuffing were NOT working. Fourteen bathroom trips
later, I was most supremely hydrated; no need for this body to
retain any water. Yet the ring was not budging. By evening, the
ring was still in park, and I was starting to feel a bit desperate.
I'm prone to claustrophobia, and in my mind my wedding ring was
beginning to feel like it was holding my ring finger hostage
in an elevator that was stuck between floors. My calm mind set
from the morning all but eroded, I brought out the big guns.
I tried everything: butter, lotion, several different kinds of
oil, dental floss (don't ask), soaking my finger in cold water,
placing my hand between bags of frozen peas... to no avail.
By this time, my finger was sporting
a rather lovely violet color and was more than just a little
achy as it had been at the start of what would become known as
a most "harrowing day." It was at this time I began
to crack, my inner irrational feelings starting to display themselves
on the outside. So it was fortunate for me that Matt, now off
work, was coming down the stairs from his office, and ready to
espouse much wisdom in the face on this now (as I saw it) hostage
crisis. As visions of a delivery room eight and a half years
earlier flashed in my mind, I fought off the urge to stick my
left hand in his face and yell, "You did this to me!
You put this here!" I tried to put on my best "it's
all good" face, but who was I kidding? This man has been
married to me for sixteen years. He knows that look in my eye.
The one that says, "You'd better tread lightly, fella. I
am dangerously close to going over to the dark side." And
to my great relief, he didn't say, "Use the force, Luke."
Rather, he gave me a hug and told me he could see that I was
getting "too worked up." And then my betrothed gave
me advice equivalent of the kiss of death: "Just try
not to think about it."
"Yeah, okay," I replied.
And then I proceeded to act like I wasn't thinking about
it for the rest of the evening. After Matt and Gibson were in
bed asleep, I crept to the kitchen and pulled olive oil from
the shelf... nothin'. The "Ring and I" were
now a hot item. Indeed, we would spend the night together. In
the game between mb and the ring, it was ring 8, mb 0.
The next morning, nothing had
changed. If anything, I was puffier. So I did what anyone else
would do in a seemingly insurmountable situation: I Googled.
My choice of keywords: "stuck
ring." To my surprise, it was a vastly well covered
subject with any number of "sure-fire" ways to loosen
the cylindrical offender. Most of which I had already tried.
*sigh* And then of course, the unthinkable: having to have the
ring CUT OFF. Um, no. And so, it's with a considerable
amount of consternation that I share with you the key to my successful
ring-ectomy: Windex. I can't explain it. Who
could? I won't try. But at approximately 11:50 p.m., one
cool August night in a North Tacoma neighborhood, a desperate
(and puffy) woman stood over her kitchen sink, yanking at her
finger... moaning, groaning, wincing, grunting, squeaking...
and finally, crying "sweet freedom!" for a digit no
longer oppressed.
...my sincere apologies to
any and all neighbors who were unfortunate enough to witness
this: grunts, disturbing facial expressions, and all.
But I digress...
I
had not planned on revealing ANY of this. It is my usual practice
to keep all things "puffy" to myself. When I started
this blog, I had this whole other direction in mind. Whoops!
Clearly, the ring thing was more traumatic than even I was giving
it credit for. My need to purge the drama is now unrelentingly
clear. (And more than a little embarrassing.) And until a reputable
jeweler can make it one size bigger than it needs to be (fear
of future puffiness ensues), my wedding ring will remain "on
the shelf." And for those who may be wondering, it will
not be joined by the band (or my marriage, for that matter)
any time soon.
As for my original intentions
for this blog? Well, no worries. They are still alive and floundering.
More later,
- mb
15 AUGUST, 2009
Death panels for straw men | With
the crazies going on about death panels and pulling the plug
on Grandma, it's encouraging to run across a discussion of the
current health care crisis that isn't dumbed down or built on
fear. This
piece by David Goldhill takes an interesting look at the
problem.
- Matt
14 AUGUST, 2009
Toys
| If money were no object,
I'd get me one of these:
I love how vocal the Chicago
Iron Parachute Wah is. It almost sounds like it's saying "woo,"
instead of "wah." As it is, I'm mighty happy with my
Mojo
Hand Analogue Filter, which mines the same territory but
in a more fixed yet unpredictable way. Yes, I like to play with
toys.
- Matt
01 AUGUST, 2009
Exploding
heads | Remember that episode
of The
Brady Bunch when little Cindy gets her chance to be a
*big star* when she is chosen to participate on a local game
show? She struts around throughout most of the episode, blond
ringlets bouncing, nose in the air, puffed up and full of confidence,
and of course, completely annoying all those around her. And
then, when it's finally time for the budding starlet to take
her place in hollywood history, the *on air* light comes on (it's
red of course), and our diva chokes. Indeed, she goes totally
catatonic. "Ever see that scene in Scanners
where the dude's head explodes?"
I think that about sums it up.
How I feel about blogging, that is. The idea is solid, and I
believe my words to Matt when he asked me if I would be willing
to put a regular blog on the website were, "I can totally
do that!" All sorts of "great" ideas going through
my head. Full of confidence was I. But somehow, I just never
got around to writing down all these great ideas and witty anecdotes
that once swarmed inside my head. I'd go to the computer with
the inspiration to write and end up just standing there, waiting
for my head to explode. And so, that is the story of how "I
can totally do that" quickly became, "I'll get to it.
I will." And then conveniently "forgetting" about
the whole matter until the next time Matt nagged (er, asked)
me about it.
This morning, my grace period
was over. I was barely done throwing back the dregs of my decaf
(yes, decaf; sorry), when Matt downloaded the page here, and
physically led me to the computer. And here I stand, talking
about 1960s sitcoms and their miniature divas and quoting from
Wayne's
World. And for those of you who would ask, yes, I'm actually
standing.
I read once that caffeine does,
in fact, give the brain a jolt, encourages a certain amount of
productivity. I wonder if I were to switch back if might be able
to more effectively act upon my "blogiful" aspirations.
Yes, there would be the irritability, the general jumpiness,
and those annoying little heart palpitations... ah, perhaps it's
but a small price to pay for maintaining literacy on the fly.
More later. I hope?
- mb
25 JUNE 2009
Work party |
Okay, it's
been too long since we've posted an update here. Our lame excuse?
TWBA hasn't been a band lately so much as a weekly work party.
We get together once a week at Tommy's studio and play with power
tools, toxic chemicals, and whatnot. But we are making progress
and someday soon will have finished a super fancy studio and
rehearsal space.
This extended
break from making music has given us much time to think, however,
about how we want to move forward with the music, this web site,
and pretty much everything TWBA-related. We're still sorting
things out, but we'll post more soon on where we hope to take
things in the near future.
- Matt
2 MARCH 2009
TWBA gives birth (again)
| Sorry for the late update
here, but we're proud to announce that Tommy and Tracie just
had their second child (technically speaking, Tracie did the
birthing). Vaughn Rawley Thew was born Jan. 30, 2009 and came
into this world weighing a mighty seven pounds and fourteen ounces.
Send mini Les Pauls to the Thew Mansion.
Q. Can you
tell us a bit about your history and how you first got involved
with boutique pedals? Maybe you could share what first inspired
you to start designing your own pedals, or describe the first
pedal you built, or whatnot. I'm guessing you've had to pinch
yourself a few times along the way as your passion has grown
from a hobby into quite an impressive operation.
A. It was totally a hobby that took on a life
of it's own. I've been playing guitar since around the age of
15 or so, and was always into finding cool little boxes that
made interesting sounds. Later on, when I discovered the internet,
it opened up a whole new world for me. I started buying and selling
a lot of pedals through gear classifieds, forums, and eventually
ebay. Along the way I tried all kinds of things: building kits
from Paia and Craig Anderton books, modding, tweaking,
you name it. I also made quite a few friendships with pedal builders
through gear forums, with guys like Nic Harris (Catalinbread), Robbie Wallace (RGW
Electronics),
and Brian Marshall (SubDecay), just to name a few.
Those guys were really instrumental in encouraging me to jump
into the business and see what would happen. When I started Tone
Factor, I didn't really have a primary source of income in mind.
I just thought it would be cool for my hobby to pay for itself.
Surprisingly, and thankfully, it's grown beyond anything I imagined.
We've expanded our inventory every single year that we've been
in business. In 2008, I teamed up with my business partner, and
the other half of Tone Factor, Larry, and it's grown considerably
more since then.
Q. How did
the Tone Factor web site come about? Is it difficult to manage
the store, which sells gear from dozens of manufactures, and
continue on with your own line of pedals (Mojo
Hand)?
Or do the two pursuits kind of work in tandem with each other?
A. The website
was a natural extension of what I was already doing elsewhere.
The retail side of things (Tone Factor) is my primary focus.
I started out with very little inventory, and just constantly
put everything that I could back into the business.
It's been a challenge
trying to juggle two separate, but connected, business models.
Mojo Hand for me is more of a labor of love. It came about from
my desire to see simple, straight forward designs that just sound
really good, with few bells and whistles, and no marketing gimmicks.
Q. You probably
get this one all the time. You're stranded on an island and only
get to have one pedal manufacturer at your disposal (your island
miraculously has power, and you spend all your days playing guitar
instead of foraging for food or chopping down coconut trees).
Which will it be? In a similar vein, what pedal should every
guitarist have on his or her pedal board and why?
A. This is a
tough question. I like a lot of pedals. However, I'd have to
say that I have so much respect and admiration for guys like
Nic and Brian (from Catalinbread and SubDecay, respectively)
that I would have to choose one of those two. Those guys put
their heart and soul into their pedals. I've seen their brands
grow right along with ours for years, and every single year they
both put out better and more useful gear for musicians. I trust
their ears and their skills and would be happy using pedals from
either from now on.
As for what pedal
every guitarist should have on their board, I'm going to cop
out and say a tuner. :)
Q. You’ve
been running your own studio, Elliott Bay Recording
Co.,
for a handful of years now. How hard was it to go from being
an employee at a studio to a co-owner? Any tough lessons along
the way?
A. I've owned a commercial recording
studio for almost nine years now. Being an employee meant following
certain rules set by the owner of a studio. Now that I'm an owner,
I set certain rules and studio policies that I try to adhere
to. So in that sense it's not really different. I always tried
to make the sessions go as smooth as possible without any hangups,
and it's the same whether you're the owner or employee. There
are certainly more things that you're responsible for when you
own the place, though. Aside from the huge expense of building
the place and maintaining it (insurance, rent, upgrades, etc.),
it's my full-time job, so my reputation is important and so is
the work that I produce.
Q. What are
the most common mistakes made by bands coming into record for
the first time? Is there anything they can do ahead of time to
make the experience more fruitful?
A. There are
so many common mistakes bands make that really are just common
sense mistakes. One of the big ones I'm always amazed at is when
the band shows up late. I'm always there early, and I tell them
that. If the session starts at 10 a.m. and I'm there setting
up at 9:30, you'd think the band would get there at 9:30 and
get a free half hour of studio time, or at least have the time
to have some coffee and relax. More times than you could imagine
the band will show up at 10:45. This has happened three times
in the last week. So instead of getting there on time, or early,
they've just wasted fifty dollars.
Also, bands always
think that they're well rehearsed, but when they come into the
studio, a lot of time is wasted working out parts. The studio
is not the most cost-effective rehearsal room. It seems that
when bands rehearse, they crank everything up to ear-splitting
levels and never really hear the parts the other band mates are
playing. When a band rehearses and are getting ready for the
studio, they really need to know their songs without thinking
about them. They should practice with a click track (not starting
a day before the studio) and play the songs at various tempos,
with and without the vocals. The studio can be a fun time, but
it's a completely different scenario than live, and so should
be rehearsed differently than for a live gig.
An
important thing to remember, too, is that the studio takes a
lot of energy and concentration. Don't party till 2 a.m. the
day before the session. Playing a two-hour gig with lots of beer
and noise isn't the same as ten hours straight in the studio
working on your masterpiece. You have to be ready for it, mentally
and physically.
One last thing
(and there are so many more): don't just assume the studio has
everything you need. I have a lot of guitar amps, drum sticks,
guitars, mics, etc., but don't assume the studio has 9-volt batteries,
extra guitar strings, new snare heads, fingernail clippers, a
tuner. You should bring everything you need, and if the studio
has something better, then use it, but don't get pissed if the
studio doesn't have the kind of organic tea that you're used
to drinking at home.
Q. If you
could record any band, who would it be, and why?
A. The bands
I really like are all old, and many of them have died. Pink Floyd
is my favorite, so it would have been cool to at least been in
one of their sessions to take on the vibe. I've worked with a
lot of big names, so it's not really a thing I think about. I
just like to work with good people who want to come out with
a good product.
Q. You’ve done quite
a bit of world traveling and shooting over the last few years,
much of it with Art Wolfe
and his crew. Can you describe a few of the highlights –
and maybe a few lowlights as well?
A. Highlights – all over the place,
literally. My pick for the three coolest travel destinations
are South Georgia Island, Bhutan, and Madagascar. Three very
different places, but that's what I love – variety.
Scariest event was in Kenya on
a ride from Masi Mara National
Park into the capital, Nairobi. The paved road was in such
disrepair that we spent most of the time driving on the shoulder,
sometimes the right shoulder, sometimes the left. Oncoming cars
would also be doing the same. At one point when we were on the
potholed, broken up road, we had two oncoming cars on either
side of us. It got so bad I had to put on my iPod and close my
eyes.
Q. Does anybody still work with actual film, or is everything
strictly digital now? Maybe you can share a little about your
use of technology and how things have evolved for you over the
years.
A. Film is dead for nearly all photographers. The few holdouts
are having to pay higher and higher cost for the film and more
importantly the processing. Most film processing has to be sent
to another town to get done at this point.
Digital has really raised the
quality of photography in general. There's so much more you can
do now it's amazing. My favorite part is that every time I click
the shutter it doesn't cost me twenty-five cents. I resisted
digital for a long time, but as soon as I did a side-by-side
test, I was sold. My photos are much better now. I find myself
looking at my old work and shaking my head at the image quality.
Of course, going digital also coincided with my job working with
Art Wolfe, so that probably helped accelerate my photography
a bit as well.
Q. Which was harder: running the Seattle
Marathon, climbing Mt.
Rainier, or carving out some personal space in India?
A. I found running a marathon and climbing Mt. Rainier very similar
in their difficulty. Either one can be a little bit better or
worse depending on how you feel that day. By the end of either
one though, you're feel pretty wasted and a hot bath and about
twelve hours of sleep feel really, really good.
India – I didn't mind the
crowds; it was the noise that drove me nuts. By far the loudest
place I've every been. Really loud car stereos, ones with really
bad speakers, horns, loudspeakers, animals, people yelling –
it's all pretty intense. We were at the Kumb
Mela, the largest gathering of people ever on the planet.
They had a loudspeaker system strung over the entire city blasting
24/7 things like prayers, announcements, lost children, etc.
Not that I could understand a word of it, which probably helped.
I slept with earplugs and noise-canceling headphones on, and
it still seemed loud!
Q. We know a certain nine-year-old
boy who, since discovering Transformers
and the soundtrack
to the second movie,
has become a fan of Green
Day, Linkin Park, and
Nickelback, among others.
Is there a certain type of band or music genre that appeals to
Transformer fans?
A.
I'm not entirely sure. I know any Transformers-related message
board has fans of all kinds of various music. I don't know that
there's any one particular type shared between all, or even most
fans. I myself have an array of musical tastes all over the place,
from classical to hard rock, Beethoven
to Weird Al.
Q. You currently have more
than 16,000 subscribers on YouTube (and 24 million views!?!).
What inspired you to start reviewing Transformers and other toys
and posting your
reviews online? Any lessons or surprises along the way?
A. Honestly, I just thought it
would be fun to do. I'd just gotten a little digital video recorder
to document early childhood moments with my newborn daughter,
and found myself getting a hold of some figures before they had
hit general release, so I thought it would be fun to share the
figures with the rest of the fandom. I was surprised early on
by the sheer amount of negativity that can be found on the internet,
especially once you're willing to put yourself up in the public
spotlight, but the praise quickly came to outweigh the negative
and it all worked out in the end.
Q. Do boys ever outgrow their
toys? Or do they just pick more expensive ones as they get older?
What keeps you coming back to Transformers and other toys?
A. I think boys can certainly
outgrow their toys, but it's more likely that they'll grow into
more expensive ones (or just hang on to the same ones!). I've
always enjoyed collecting toys, but Transformers has always been
a consistent collection. I think the appeal, for me at least,
is that the line as a whole is based around the entire concept
of change. Familiar faces remain familiar, but continue to grow
and differ as time goes on. Take a character like Optimus
Prime, for example. There have been several variations throughout
out the years, all recognizable as Prime, but all transforming
in vastly different ways. That's where a lot of the appeal lies
for me, in the "how did they do it this time?" I mean,
Beast Wars
came up with 7-8 different ways to transform a monkey into a
humanoid robot! A lot of my interest is simply fascination with
the design.
Q. Can you tell us a bit about
the Jet
Artist Cooperative and how you got involved with the group?
A. Jet Artist Cooperative is run by the
totally awesome Linda Danforth, who saw a lack of affordable
spaces for artists to have a studio of their own. She runs a
few spaces, and the one I'm in is located in a building owned
by the University
of Washington Tacoma. I think they plan on renovating it
at some point, but until then, they've kindly let us artists
make use of it. When they have an opening, it's listed on the
Tacoma
Art Listserv, which I saw the night after water started leaking
onto where I had my painting table in my house. It seemed like
an auspicious sign, and when I showed up, I was in love with
the art school feel of everyone's easels and art stuff being
set up in the large warehouse-like setting of the upper floor.
The great lighting and excellent vibe totally makes up for the
creepy ascent to the top through the maze of wood paneled and
slanting stairs. Plus, there is horror movie-style elevator that
makes hiding bodies easy.
Q. You recently started a
Facebook page called Secret
Tacoma, which has become mighty popular with highfalutin
City
of Destiny types. Are you still catching flack for outing
our fair city? Any favorite posts so far?
A. Some secrets aren't better
kept; I have no regret in outing Tacoma's. We all benefit from
a thriving city, and we can take pride in not needing to go to
Seattle for a fun night out. I feel like what makes a community
are the little secret handshakes and argot
of locales the citizenry share in common. Hearing someone talk
about going to Milwaukee
Cafe for breakfast or Sushi
Tama for dinner is like an auditory wink and a nudge. When
I saw the Secret
Seattle group on Facebook, I knew Tacoma needed its own.
There are so many great places to be discovered, enjoyed, and
shared in T-town. I like to see local business get the recognition
and customers they deserve. Selfishly, though, I did it because
I love finding out the new places too. The most surprising thing
is how fast that group filled out. I was hoping for maybe fifty
peeps. If there are secrets that needed keeping in Tacoma, chances
are you won't find them on Facebook.
Q. So... do you listen to
music while you paint? Are there certain bands or types of music
that help get the creative juices flowing? Or do you need silence?
Or is it different every time you create something new?
A. Aw, music. I think it's fair
to say painting wouldn't get done at all without it. They've
done studies that show if you are listening to music and doing
something creative, your brainwaves approach the state you find
in advanced students of meditation. I definitely feel that way.
Both have to be present to get you in that state. If there is
no music, there is restless shifting and focusing too much --
thinking too much, I suppose. As for what kind, it has to be
something I'm very familiar with. I can listen to the same cd
over and over and not really notice how many times it's played.
Lately it's been upbeat snappy stuff like the
Killers, Firewater,
Coldplay, and Muse.
There's still room left for the occasional rainy day Depeche
Mode marathon, or my favorite, Nine
Inch Nails. I'm also getting used to new stuff, like by this
band you may have heard of...Holes in the Bolivian Army, or was
it the Entire Peruvian Embassy? Give me a sec; it'll come to
me.
Q. I think some TWBA fans
are vaguely aware that we had another female voice in the band
at one point, but few likely remember there were three one night,
when Mary Beth had the flu and you and Brenda
Hazen stepped in for several songs at the old Swan Café
in Pioneer Square. What, if anything, do you remember about that
show? About your brief tenure with TWBA?
A.
I remember that it was baptism by fire. This was my first show
with TWBA. Two words come to mind: freaked out. I couldn't
believe Mary Beth got laryngitis on MY FIRST SHOW. But I also
recall it was great fun and the band played spectacularly, despite
me. My grandfather was at the show and he was the best fan EVER…he
never wore his hearing aid.
I loved being a part of the Army.
It was my debut as a rock vocalist, having always clung to the
backdrop in true bassist fashion or relegated my singing to show
tunes. Who knew I'd front several bands, sing backup for various
artists, and still be practicing musical mayhem after all these
years.
Q. The four songs available
on your MySpace
and Facebook pages -- "Ghost," "Gravity,"
"Smile," and "Isolation" -- all have one-word
titles. Other than that, they're pretty distinct from one another.
Does Way South consciously try to sound different with each song,
or does it just happen naturally? Oh, and as for "Isolation,"
how many hands were needed for the clap track?
A. I think it is naturally conscious.
Organically intentional. We love to experiment, play with time
signatures, continually evolve. Everyone contributes to the writing
process, which likely accounts for some of the diversity. Wait
till you hear the new stuff…
“Isolation” involved
8 hands over multiple tracks. At our last show we had 12 hands
and it was claptastic. We'll be lucky if we can fit the minimum
6 hands needed at the Mars
Bar on Sept. 25.
Q. Can you tell us more about
your band and how it evolved? And what's it like playing with
a sibling (as opposed to a spouse)?
A. Way South evolved from the
band Julep over
the year. Jim and I felt that new drummer + new guitarist + new
tunes in a new direction = time to rebrand. Not unlike your own
tale, my spouse and I have been playing music together for 17
years, in various iterations of what is now Way South. We are
still happily married, if you can believe it. My brother, Mike, joined the fold
as our drummer shortly after moving back to his homeland from
New Mexico, which was extremely exciting for us. Mike and I can
pretty much read each other's minds, finish each other's sentences,
and anticipate each other's moves. For some odd reason Jim and
I tent to lose our ability to communicate in the band room, thus
the difference between playing with a sibling and a spouse.
Karl Haug joined the band about
4 months ago and brings amazing talent and a fresh perspective
to our music. He also adds new instrumentation with the mandolin
and lap steel. Like I said, wait till you hear the new stuff
(next release in January).
Perhaps a carry over from my
TWBA days, but I’m a sucker for a backing vocalist. We have
three talented vocalists to draw from -- Shannon Carpenter, Kendra
Chappell, and Sarah McGray -- and have been known to get them
all up on stage at the same time. Shannon will be singing with
us on Friday.
Q. You run a MySpace
site and a YouTube
page, and you used to keep a blog.
What else am I missing? Moreover, what inspired you to so thoroughly
immerse yourself in the indie songwriter/band world?
A. My latest project has been developing
a YouTube
channel to promote videos. It's very cool because I can send
a video to all my YouTube friends, over 1,700 people, in a single
whack and I can feature videos and make playlists, etc.
I've also recently started with
Twitter
but I'm not sure if I'm convinced yet that there's value for
music promotion on my scale (a much smaller scale than a major
label, for example). I'm game to give it a try, however.
I also do song/artist referrals
to radio stations, though this and blogging have landed on haitus
for awhile due to health issues forcing me to take a lot more
time away from the computer. I'll be back at it, but it's going
to be different this time around because effectual blogging more
and more requires a constant stream of promotional MP3s and radio
stations are in a terrific state of flux lately. One DJ I used
to refer to had her program turned into a news show, for example.
The inspiration has been there
since childhood. I picked up a guitar for the first time in 1976
upon hearing 'Crazy on You' and 'Dreamboat Annie' by Heart, which
led to my own study and writing, but it all really came to a
head and exploded around 2002. I got a free download of the song
'Storm' by Hungry Lucy,
an indie darkwave/trip-hop band. That same year, by total serendipity,
I heard 'November' by Azure
Ray (to me the epitomy of "the indie sound'), and a
few months later I caught the song 'Nighttime' by Petracovich
on a telivision series, and these things eventually led me to
MySpace.
For decades I starved in wont of fresh, quality music, and upon
hitting MySpace I was inundated by it. I'm not sure I slept from
2004 through most of 2007. Thousands of high quality artists
I'd never heard of that were just amazing. I wanted, and still
do, to find them and keep them around, to have them earning a
living with their music. It's an obsession.
Q. Your focus is on female
artists, so of course I have to ask you who your favorite male-fronted
bands/artists are and why.
A. Mostly older bands
like The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Queen,
and Cheap Trick.
For the past 15 years I've remained
almost 100% exclusive to female artists and singers. I hate to
sound anti-climatic to anyone who thinks I'm on a feminist mission,
but truth be told I just prefer the sound of female voices. And
while it's true that I do prefer those who write their own material,
I can be equally taken by a great voice -- especially those who
'own' what they're singing. It's a slightly blurry line, I admit.
Q. What's the music scene
like in Colorado Springs, where you live? Do you get a chance
to see many bands play live?
A. We have a music scene
in Colorado Springs? The last band I saw live (excluding cover
bands -- plenty of those around here) was the Pretenders up at
Red Rocks (Denver) back in the early-mid eighties. Colorado Springs
is where indie music comes to die.
Q. You wear a lot of hats.
You’re a musician and songwriter, a journalist, an event
planner, a grassroots organizer, etc. Do you ever find yourself
focusing on one thing only, or are you constantly working on
all fronts simultaneously?
A. You forgot graphic designer, publicist,
entertainment booker, social networking guru, festival coordinator,
artist, writer, poet, mother, insomniac, and amateur psychiatrist.
*smile* Recently in an article about Urban Pioneers, theWeekly Volcano called
me a polymath.
I found that kind of amusing, especially since I have no formal
degrees of any kind. Like everyone else, I have acquired many
skills over the years. Right now I just go where I’m needed,
which means I get to do lots of different things for lots of
different people. This is great for me because I’ve done
the 9 to 5 Monday through Friday thing in the past and it felt
very restrictive and draining to my spirit. Now I’m meeting
new people, having new adventures, and feeling more alive and
creative than I ever have before. It all started with the $100
A DAY campaign I began last year after I got laid off from
my job as Associate Editor of the Weekly
Volcano. I figured out that I needed to make a minimum
of $100 per day to survive financially, so I listed all the things
I’m good at and then started spreading the word to all my
contacts that I would work for them for one day for $100.00.
This plan worked because I’d been steadily building a network
of business contacts for the last 10 years. People needed my
help and were happy to get it so inexpensively. In 2008 I even
picked up a few contract jobs that lasted a few months. That
was really cool. I got to plan two really amazing community festivals
featuring artists, musicians, and small business owners –
three groups of people that I care very deeply about. I try to
work within those communities every chance I get.
Q. What is your dream job
and why?
A. I’m a very creative person
and I do my best work when I’m allowed to follow my little
flights of fancy. I think my dream job is being able to do whatever
kind of work I feel like at any given time. I also really enjoy
helping people. My friend Desiree
and I are working on a plan to do both those things simultaneously.
We have our eye on a vacant space downtown
Tacoma that we’d like to make into an event-based talent
playground. We need two more partners in order to make it work,
though. Our plan is to feature the creative work of lots of different
people, including local bands, visual artists, fashion designers,
jewelry makers, interior designers, and anyone else that we think
is producing things that are cool and worth displaying. We also
want to hold classes and help others explore their creativity.
If we find two other people who see our vision, then we’d
like to start this new odyssey in October. The working title
for the project is Speakeasy.
Q. Your latest event, the
Electro-Pop
Art Party with Oscillator X scheduled for this Saturday,
August 15, cross-pollinates different art mediums. Can you tell
me more about what went into planning this as well as what inspired
it?
A. Robert
Daniel Gallery owner, Robert Stocker, contacted me a couple
of months ago and asked if I would be willing to plan a few events
for his venue. I came up with the idea to do the Electro-Pop
Art Party because pop art and pop music seemed like the perfect
combination. I also wanted to test a theory I have about our
local music scene. There aren’t very many cool places to
go dancing in Tacoma, and I’ve noticed that the electro-pop,
techno, and keyboard and/or laptop focused bands seldom play
here like they do in Seattle. I hope to change that by either
continuing to do shows at this venue or doing the same thing
at Speakeasy if/when we get it off the ground.
Robert Daniel Gallery is my favorite
gallery because it has displayed some of the most interesting
art I’ve ever seen and hosted some of the best parties
I’ve ever attended. It’s a wonderful space in a great
location downtown and it actually has plenty of free street parking!
We are very lucky to get Oscillator
X (from Portland) to play in Tacoma. They are just returning
from Europe, where they were flown out to perform at the International
Arcade Dance Championships - yes, Arcade Dance is a competitive
sport! Their music is featured in several video games, and their
hit song Dynamo is being played on radio stations across the
US and abroad. Locally you can hear it on Tacoma’s KVTI
I-91 FM or Seattle’s KNHC
C89 FM.
Tickets are $8 in advance and
$10 at the door and can be purchased here.
Q. Well, Laguna has outlived
its share of bands, genres, and venues in the ever evolving Seattle
music scene. What are your thoughts on being an indie musician,
circa 2009?
A. The sky is the
limit now. We have the internet to really market ourselves and
attract the kind of people that really, really want us... even
if that is in someplace like Europe and/or outside of Seattle.
Mostly, I feel like our music has matured along with our lives.
I feel like I actually have something to say now... and more
depth. With time and the internet, it makes self-managing so
much easier! That's the biggest thing. That... and I feel like
I have the confidence to really be the artist I've always wanted
to be by... not caring so much what people might think. I see
myself as a piece of performance art... being freer than ever.
And in 2009, I think that is very possible and very sought-after.
Q. You speak Japanese and have visited Japan at least a couple
times, if I remember correctly. Tell me a bit about your connection
to Japan and how it has seeped into your music.
A. Well, when I was living in Japan, it was during the height
of grunge in Seattle. So I totally missed the whole grunge scene.
I don't know if that's good or bad, but in Japan, I listened
to lots of jazz because my Japanese boyfriend was really into
Miles Davis, Blossom
Dearie, Chet Baker, and so on. He also loved the Beatles.
So we listened to a lot of that stuff together. Also, US3
was being played all over Japan, which was that band that mixed
jazz and hip hop, and so, I started getting into singing in a
jazzy style. So, ironically for me, Japan was more about appreciating
traditional, mostly American jazz and such. Of course, I sing
in Japanese as it's my second language. And my vocal melodies
have a lot of connection to Japanese pop music sensibilities...
I think. Strange, but after Japan, I moved to France and saw
the news of Kurt Cobain's death on French television. I didn't
really understand why he was so famous or why so many kids gathered
at the Seattle Center (kinda pre internet, ya know?)... what
this grunge thing was exactly! It totally perplexed me. What's
really funny is that I've only just started to get into Nirvana,
15 years later, and love reading about Kurt Cobain, reading his
lyrics and watching him in old interviews. He and Courtney Love
are fascinating and aside from all of the drug stuff, I think
they truly loved each other. I wish I would have known Kurt and
think we probably would have been friends. Really! He was actually
quite funny from what I can see, not the whiny grunge boy I stereotyped
him as. He was a such a gifted and honest artist. Interesting
how Japan took me away from such a HUGE part of Seattle music
history. But, in some ways, I feel like that gap has always created
a freshness and innocence for Laguna! with me lacking the grunge
experience.
Q. I want to talk about "Stop It All," which is
the opening track on your 2005 album Outside
Casa. The chorus -- I think it's the chorus (the part
where you sing the actual title to the song) -- is absolutely,
gobsmackingly lovely. Have you had any men (or women) propose
to you after hearing it? I mean, we would, if we weren't already
happily married. More to the point, how did the song develop,
and what inspired it?
A. It's actually funny you talk about getting proposed to and
such... as it's my prelude to a divorce song. I actually wrote
the lyrics after and somewhat during my divorce. Truthfully,
it's based on how one feels when they feel they are trapped in
a negative situation and don't know how to get out. At the time,
I felt very suffocated and drained by the relationship. Of course,
I totally understand how it takes two to tango now. Nonetheless,
it's about having the perspective that your partner is stopping
you and possibly killing off your ambition or dreams out of jealousy
or whatever obnoxious reasons. As of late, I've changed the lyrics
to a more hopeful "you start it all," because that
is what I am seeking now. That great love that starts you up,
makes you happy and buoyant. That's the space I'm in now. So
maybe I will be proposed to now... now that I've changed the
lyrics to the chorus. In fact, it's impossible for me to sing
the old chorus now! Let's hope Laguna! can start it all in 2010
with it's new CD, Volcano!
The
movie sort of cemented in my mind an opinion that has slowly
been forming for me, which is that Rush, along with being highly
underrated and underappreciated over the years, deserves to be
mentioned in the same breath as bands like the Who and U2 and
maybe even the Beatles (sacrilege!). Obviously, they'll never
be as critically acclaimed or commercially successful, but their
influence on modern music can't be overstated. The luminaries
interviewed in the documentary ranged from Billy Corgan to Jack
Black, and everyone came back to the same thing, which is that
Rush found a way to be earnest and virtuous and totally themselves
and still carve out a loyal following.
We also want to extend a thank-you to
Tracy Brooks, his wife Ann, and their crew (Chuck and Michelle),
each of whom came armed with a video camera. Tracy will be collaborating
with our drummer Matt Bleckert in order to put together a clip
or two for YouTube. Mr. Bleckert has in his possession the live
audio tracks, taken straight from the mixing board, which he
plans to mix and then sync up with the video. I bet it'll be
fancy!
The doctor who did the honors is a fellow
runner, so we got to talk marathons beforehand, and the assistants
and the anesthesiologist all treated me well, especially after
it took three tries to get an IV started. Poke. Poke. Poke. We
have a winner! (And three bandages to show for it...) The doc
did find and snip a tiny, 4mm sessile 
For this one, I warned my primary physician
that my last one was a nightmare and that I didn't take well
to the whole experience. No worries, he assured me. Colonoscopies
have come a long way since my last one. After waiting as long
as I felt comfortable before the referral expired, I dutifully
called the clinic and made an appointment. While speaking to
the receptionist, I also warned her: my last one was hell. No
worries, she assured me. Our doctors are the best. You won't
feel or remember a thing.
As you read this blog, there is something
you should know. I'm cheating on you. You're thinking, "slut,"
and you're right. Indeed, down at the bottom of my screen here,
there is not one, but two open windows (however minimized the
other might be at the moment). The other open window is my connection,
my life-line if you will, to a place called 
A
few months in, I knew I had a problem. Yes, the lizard was Gibson's,
but there were questions floating about the house, such as: "Why
is Mom ALWAYS checking on my lizard?" "Why is Mom always
sneaking upstairs and eyeing the temperature gauge and changing
stuff around in the cage?" And "Why does Mom always
seem to have MY lizard on HER shoulder?!"
That's
when I found "the org" and began reading. And after
several days of researching the ins and outs of "beardie
care"(yet another care that lacks a public option), I was
ready to perform the total enclosure refurbish. Operation Beardie
Grow was officially under way. And I'm proud to report it was
a success. And when Cloudy started to shed for the first time
in months, we cried happy tears (there may have been some dancing).
And when he had his first 100 bug day (not an exaggeration),
we cheered him on. And in this process of watching him grow,
watching him shed, watching him swim in the tub, singing to him,
tucking him in at night, cleaning up his poop, and snuggling
him every chance I got, I became hopelessly devoted to all things
beardie. I am what they refer to at the org as a "beardie
slave."
Amnesty
at sea |
I've been meaning to
mention this for, oh, about ten months now, but a long-time friend
and fan of the band paid us the ultimate compliment two summers
ago when he bought a beautiful sailboat and named it after what
many consider our best album, 
No Line on the Horizon fits the third group the most closely,
although with some caveats. It doesn't transport you somewhere
like the murky, otherworldly 
Swiss Family
Massacre | A while back Gibson and I started a little
bedtime reading ritual where we read something off my bookshelf,
which is mostly relatively "high-brow" stuff. I figured,
what the heck, he's eight; he's ready for 
I
had not planned on revealing ANY of this. It is my usual practice
to keep all things "puffy" to myself. When I started
this blog, I had this whole other direction in mind. Whoops!
Clearly, the ring thing was more traumatic than even I was giving
it credit for. My need to purge the drama is now unrelentingly
clear. (And more than a little embarrassing.) And until a reputable
jeweler can make it one size bigger than it needs to be (fear
of future puffiness ensues), my wedding ring will remain "on
the shelf." And for those who may be wondering, it will
not be joined by the band (or my marriage, for that matter)
any time soon.
Exploding
heads | Remember that 
Work party |
Okay, it's
been too long since we've posted an update here. Our lame excuse?
TWBA hasn't been a band lately so much as a weekly work party.
We get together once a week at Tommy's studio and play with power
tools, toxic chemicals, and whatnot. But we are making progress
and someday soon will have finished a super fancy studio and
rehearsal space.
A. It was totally a hobby that took on a life
of it's own. I've been playing guitar since around the age of
15 or so, and was always into finding cool little boxes that
made interesting sounds. Later on, when I discovered the internet,
it opened up a whole new world for me. I started buying and selling
a lot of pedals through gear classifieds, forums, and eventually
ebay. Along the way I tried all kinds of things: building kits
from 
A. I've owned a commercial recording
studio for almost nine years now. Being an employee meant following
certain rules set by the owner of a studio. Now that I'm an owner,
I set certain rules and studio policies that I try to adhere
to. So in that sense it's not really different. I always tried
to make the sessions go as smooth as possible without any hangups,
and it's the same whether you're the owner or employee. There
are certainly more things that you're responsible for when you
own the place, though. Aside from the huge expense of building
the place and maintaining it (insurance, rent, upgrades, etc.),
it's my full-time job, so my reputation is important and so is
the work that I produce.
An
important thing to remember, too, is that the studio takes a
lot of energy and concentration. Don't party till 2 a.m. the
day before the session. Playing a two-hour gig with lots of beer
and noise isn't the same as ten hours straight in the studio
working on your masterpiece. You have to be ready for it, mentally
and physically.
A. Highlights – all over the place,
literally. My pick for the three coolest travel destinations
are South Georgia Island, Bhutan, and Madagascar. Three very
different places, but that's what I love – variety.
A.
I'm not entirely sure. I know any Transformers-related message
board has fans of all kinds of various music. I don't know that
there's any one particular type shared between all, or even most
fans. I myself have an array of musical tastes all over the place,
from classical to hard rock, 
A. Jet Artist Cooperative is run by the
totally awesome Linda Danforth, who saw a lack of affordable
spaces for artists to have a studio of their own. She runs a
few spaces, and the one I'm in is located in a building owned
by the 
A.
I remember that it was baptism by fire. This was my first show
with TWBA. Two words come to mind: freaked out. I couldn't
believe Mary Beth got laryngitis on MY FIRST SHOW. But I also
recall it was great fun and the band played spectacularly, despite
me. My grandfather was at the show and he was the best fan EVER…he
never wore his hearing aid.
A. My latest project has been developing
a 
A. You forgot graphic designer, publicist,
entertainment booker, social networking guru, festival coordinator,
artist, writer, poet, mother, insomniac, and amateur psychiatrist.
*smile* Recently in an article about Urban Pioneers, the 
A. The sky is the
limit now. We have the internet to really market ourselves and
attract the kind of people that really, really want us... even
if that is in someplace like Europe and/or outside of Seattle.
Mostly, I feel like our music has matured along with our lives.
I feel like I actually have something to say now... and more
depth. With time and the internet, it makes self-managing so
much easier! That's the biggest thing. That... and I feel like
I have the confidence to really be the artist I've always wanted
to be by... not caring so much what people might think. I see
myself as a piece of performance art... being freer than ever.
And in 2009, I think that is very possible and very sought-after.