I had a theme and then I lost it, not that I needed it in the first place. Considering the nature of an infinitesimally small blog, it was a bit overkill on the thought side to have considered one. I’ve avoided writing beyond my theme though mostly because I don’t think the internet needs more drivel from someone like me or mostly anyone else sort of like me: not much to say but likes to talk anyway. Back to that infinitesimally small blog thing though: if a blogger rambles in the forest, does anyone add them to their RSS feed? That’s the contradiction. It’s mortifying to imagine you are one of those bloggers ranting about nothing for no reason to no one, but considering no one is reading it, who’s to say such a thing to you besides yourself? And there is where the initial theme comes back around I guess. If you did make your way here, most likely you have something better to do, but I appreciate you spending some minutes between coffee breaks reading every other word or so I set down here.
So, hi there.
The Kamikaze Hearts first release just came around on my iTunes. This is, approximately, the 700th time I’ve heard this record, give or take a few listens…that’s awkward, I know. The record (CD-R with Avery labels) was a mix of home recordings (before home recordings meant very proper sounding ProTools mixes) and live performances. First off, the songs are still great. They’re simple, pithy, pretty, and habit forming. Second, like most first recordings, there is a nameless energy running through these seven songs that, while the later songs may have been “more developed” and “better recorded”, for many people, the band never again managed to match. I guess that’s what beginner’s luck is. Before any outside force has the chance to taint your creative energies, you get the purest version of yourself. Surely there is something within child psychology I could analogize this to, so imagine a quickly studied wikipedia regurgitation here.
The first time I really heard this record, in the deeply emotional, reflective way that only really happens in college because you’re an unrefined emotional sponge, I was studying for a biology final in the library sophomore year. I’d borrowed the CD from this guy, who’d gotten it from this guy and was listening to it on my cd walkman (how was that only six years ago?). I listened to it on repeat for about two hours or so. It was just so simple, but, Oh!, what is that sound? That high pitched guitar sounding thing? Mandolin you say? And the drums, they’re so simple! I mean, it doesn’t even sound like he is using the whole kit. And the audience, they’re having so much fun! This is music! I mean, real music, in the culturally important as said by a famous anthropologist I just found on wikipedia (again) kind of way! Exclaim!
This is generally the part where I like to wrap the post up nicely, but I don’t have much else to say that isn’t straight greeting card, so here it is: I’ve been feeling out of it and a bit disconnected recently, but just now, stumbling upon that record, which came well before anything that could even remotely be connected to whatever is getting me down now, I feel like I just got a good pep talk. So hear, hear for music that never gets old, locked up tight in its time and place, ready for recall. Hear, Hear.
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