Tagged: music

The true story of the time I wore a floral miniskirt to a metal concert.

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that I was going to a punk rock / garage rock / metal show with Captain Apollo.

Well, I did.

My life. 

Captain Apollo is in a band that plays original punk rock slash garage rock slash rock slash I-don’t-know-what-the-techinical-term-is. Basically, they can be put into a show with a fairly large range of different bands.

The show was in a town about 40 minutes away from us, and the bar was ten minutes outside of that. Basically in a cornfield across from that creepy gas station where people in movies get murdered a lot. You know the one.

We actually passed by it assuming it was a strip club. I can’t even make that up.

Needless to say, the joint was not, upon first glance, somewhere I would frequent. Luckily, I was with a crew of manly men from my hometown, three of whom were wearing leather jackets, so I felt safe enough within a three or four foot radius of any of them. There were definitely some characters in that bar whom I would not have ordinarily wanted within a three or four mile radius of me, but that’s neither here nor there.

And yes, of course I pick this occasion to wear a floral mini skirt and spangly sandals. The girl who wore sweatpants to a fraternity formal once. WHY.

I’m just gonna go for the gusto and tell you that the first band that played was named for two different bodily functions.




Nope. Bloodsnot, actually. An instrumental death metal band named Bloodsnot. Which probably gives you a pretty decent idea of I thought how my night was going to go.

Needless to say, I wouldn’t consider myself a death metal type of person. The “hardest” person I think I listen to on a regular basis is probably Avril Lavigne.

At any rate, Bloodsnot (BloodSnot? Blood Snot? bLoOdSnOt?) starts playing, and almost immediately three or four guys start “dancing”.

I think you could technically consider it dancing, in that they were moving and music happened to be playing. To me, it mostly looked like a group of zombies having a collective seizure.

It basically looked like this:

But in a smaller space and everyone was wearing cutoff teeshirts. EVERYONE.

You can probably imagine by this point I was two Blues down the hatch and had backed myself into a corner with Captain Apollo and the second scariest-looking townie we brought (although, objectively speaking, what’s scarier – a bleached mohawk or a half-dreads, half-shaved head combo?)

However, I have to say, once beer number three kicked in, (oh yes, it was that kind of a night) I sort of enjoyed Bloodsnot’s music. I know this because I apparently (very drunkenly) later told their guitarist that I enjoyed their performance as much as possible without ever wanting to listen to it again.

This is probably why I shouldn’t talk to people. Or go out into public places.

When Apollo’s band went on stage, I switched to whiskey gingers, ended up on the dance floor, and got into trouble with the stage manager for starting a mosh pit. Yes, the tiny half-asian girl started a mosh (well, shoving match, really). Hilariously, the Mohawk Guy got the telling off, but I totally shoved him first. It was very metal. In fact, I was definitely  starting to feel pretty metal at this point, you guys. Never mind the fact that Mohawk guy is actually very nice. I felt like shoving somebody. MUAHAHA.

During whiskey ginger number two, a band full of 30-something men wearing wallet chains screamed into microphones and rolled around on the floor while their bassist, who was inexplicably dressed like a pirate-slash-douchebag, roamed around the bar playing next to unassuming patrons. At one point the guitarist accidentally kicked over his mic stand onto the lead singer, who was still lying on the ground.

It was super metal.

I totally danced by myself in the middle of the room while my friends pretended not to know me.


The last band marked whisky ginger number three. I vaguely remember that the lead singer was dressed like a total nerd. Or was one. Either. He did not look very metal, at any rate, and a bunch of girls showed up and started dancing, and that was even less metal.

I think that’s about when I started talking to Bloodsnot about how I really enjoyed their set as much as possible without enjoying it at all, and Captain Apollo decided it was probably time for us to go home.

Except when we did get home, Varenka had accidentally locked me out.




Yoga tunes.

I realized I listen to dramatically different music when I do yoga all by myself than when I teach classes.

This is a class playlist – soft indy pop songs with a crowd-pleasing twist.


This is a tiny portion of the list I use when I practice by myself.

yoga2Which basically takes a dip into crazy town. Lots of techno, garage and punk rock, rap, and randomness.

None of it makes sense for yoga, but I actually really dislike practicing to my playlists. So go figure.

Does anyone else do this?



Fiction Friday #5 – Bass.

This is a free-write on clubbing. Tada.


The bass goes through your entire body, starting in your feet as you walk down the stairs and vibrating up your legs and into your torso, into your frantic heartbeat, your thick chest, a chest so full it feel like it’s going up your throat and it’s suddenly hard to breathe so you open your mouth and the swelling gets worse and then it releases and builds again.

It’s just like that, and it’s swelling, swelling upwards and outwards and you know you aren’t the only one because everyone is like that, everyone knows when to sing or shout or scream and their hands are all in the air so you put yours up too and god, you’re dancing, but never before like this, not like this, just dancing to dance, just moving like everyone else is and you’re in the middle of it all, thrumming, and then the music cools again. You put your arms down.

Everyone’s eyes are on the DJ in the corner and there is a quietness, a quietness that’s ebbing away, and again it starts to build deep in your toes, shivering up and up, sunk deep in your bones. It’s not a loudness but a deepness, a great booming that catches your breath in your throat and you close your eyes against the multicolored flashing in the ceiling and let the thrumming build and let your body build and drop with it. Your throat is thick. You breathe deep and exhale slowly but the thickness gets worse so you just ignore it and pant in little gasps and start to bounce like everyone else and you’re right in the middle of it all and you catch someone’s eyes and she is so beautiful and she’s bouncing too, right in rhythm with you and she’s blue and green and red and blue again, and her long dark hair is streaked with flickering light and the freckles on her face are glowing and her cherry lips are parted and she’s breathing and you can almost see the thickness building in her, building and building and building and the beat finally drops and it’s so heavy that it carries you both down, almost down through the floor, and the sweat dripping down her face is blue and green and red and blue again and it goes down her neck and down her shirt and the thickness is there too and her chest is heaving in big swelling rocking movements with the thickness.

And suddenly she’s looking at you again, at you and through you, and the music is going quiet again and you can feel the sweat dripping down off you like you’re melting, melting down into the floor as the quiet builds and the music lets you go just for that one minute and you’re both staring and you won’t let go of each other until the music pick you back up and the beat is swelling again, buoying up until it’s going back up out of you again and you’re so tired but you can’t stop because the music has you and it’s so heavy and strong and the night is late and it’s the last song and you know because the whole club is thrumming and you’re right in the middle of it and when the beat drops everyone releases and the wave goes on and on and up and everyone is blue and green and red and blue again and god you’re all dancing like this has never happened before and the whole club is so goddamn thick with it thick with the heavy and the music is building again and it drops for the last time and even the bartenders are dancing and the DJ behind the booth is letting the music flow up his arms and out of him and people are going hard in the paint, man, and then it just ends.

And the silence is so loud that everyone just stops.

And everyone is dropping.

And the club slowly empties and in the silence you watch the people filter out, and the light is regular colors and the music is over, but the thickness remains.

10 songs to get you through winter.

Every summer I compile a list of songs that epitomize, for me, the happenings and obsessions I went through during the season. The winter’s been getting left out. Not anymore.

Everyone’s got their own reasons for liking music. I like music because of its ability to tell a story. For better or worse, these songs took me through the start of autumn and will hopefully carry me through spring.

Added bonus- they are all excellent songs.

Witchcraft– Frank Sinatra
Defining line- “What good would common sense for it do?”

Here Comes the Anxiety The Wombats
Defining line- “I’d say that this is the darkest song I ever wrote”

The War Was in Color Carbon Leaf
Defining line- “These black and white photos don’t capture the skin”

Techno Fan– The Wombats
Defining line- “Shut up and move with me or get out of my face”

Songs like This Carrie Underwood
Defining line- “Even I’m surprised how easy sweet revenge rolls off my lips”

Alone With You Jake Owens
Defining line- “Don’t put your lips up to my mouth and tell me you can’t stay”

Girl in the War– Josh Ritter
Defining line- “Her eyes are like champagne”

Passenger Seat Death Cab for Cutie
Defining line- “Do they collide? / I ask, and you smile”

I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)– The Proclaimers
Defining line- “DA DA DA DA”

Damn Styles of Beyond
Defining line- “I’m feeling good as hell tonight”

So there you have it. The season started off a little rocky, but it’s finally 2013, almost my birthday, and I’m feeling good as hell.

What’s your soundtrack, internet?