For the most part I’m pretty confident and sure in whatever I’m doing. But today’s a little different. I played all the right songs to take my mind and throw it across the country. Then I wanted to text but I convinced myself it might not be a good idea. Finally, I remembered that you can’t really text at work. It’s too hot out and I’m gonna work from my bed.
“I pull the elephant tranq out of my neck, gaffle a tank, count up the chips, wrastle the fangs off of my fist, flood a little soldier blood over the ogre acres on some holiday in Cambodia with moter home appraisers. Pagans fade into the kodochrome now, later with a lid to brow staple revist the cobra loading zone. Molar foaming but he hold his own wound cauterized by the Zippo he had stole that afternoon. And my dog tags jingle by the monster island heart he built. Grew up with a Jughead crown tilt and tardy slip. Be all you can be just never soothed us. You lost me in that part about scrubbing piss with a toothbrush. Holler scum’s lullaby. Live from the ultra-fly sham city bunker where the coldest cults multiply alarmingly. Hush little baby, timeout. The black market mockingbirds can not sing a lick but lean to peck your eyes out of commission with love, out a tradition of wraiths pick on the visions that buzz, bet on the kitten’s escape, solder the piston to pump out a veteran amplifier. And magnify through the same lens that set the ants on fire. Flush the muppet hootenanny. Who could fancy honor circuit when the circle’s every duke is clammy? Trooper, scoop the food in pantry. Ante up, stupid. May delusion feed ‘em foofi candy and pry the gold out of his tooth when lamping. Pocket all you can now. Block will lead the lambs down to the cold cutlery outfit. Slaughter beef and cow tip. Pour the chief some fountain soda, motor prone to pen the holy opus and pry this monkey off the scoliosis.”—
I might not be a good photographer at all but I enjoy the things I shoot. I love taking pictures of bands. These live shows just tell so much about the small local music community. Whether its 5 or 50 people packed in a living room, basement, or just some local venue it’s fun to watch and really touching. Most of these kids won’t “make it big” in the music scene. They don’t want the huge record labels to dump money on their laps nor do they care about filling stadiums and having fans throw themselves at their feet. They come out night after night because they genuinely enjoy the music they make or hear. It might be mainstream to be un-mainstream but they know what they’re doing and they understand the challenges they face while making this music. What I find inspiring about doing photos for these tiny “Do It Yourself” shows is the amount of heart you’ll find at them.
So, in other words get out there and support your local music scene.
And besides I’ve heard enough of “Call Me Maybe” on the radio. It’s time to mix things up a bit.
This is a big shout out to the bands that play these shows and put their all into making the music that we enjoy in these little garages.