Bored Straight broke up. Dragged through a mega-hot scorcher of a final tour. We're talkin' 100+ degrees for like a weeks straight. Us Midwestern pencil-necks aren't used to that kinda rays. Played a triumphant last show in July. Who played? I can't remember. Holy Shit did. Leather? Self Interest? Pretty sure that's how it went. Fuck, I'm getting old. Memory's slipping.
Skip forward some months. Bored Straight's been practicing. 2 new songs. More to come. A couple Comp. appearances coming up. 3 shows coming. Milwaukee and Chicago with Libyans and some sort of Fest here in Milwaukee in April. Nothing feels like playing in a hardcore band with 3 of your best friends. It's unreal and I can't find anything to match it.
Days after "the breakup," I had my first practice with what became Lamb's Legs. So off the wall. It's a totally different approach than I've ever taken. We "jam." Sounds gross, I know. But it's the most organic way to work it out. We all do our part. Band as collective, it always seemed like fiction to me. It's not.
We're 2 shows deep in the Lamb's Legs lore. People seem to dig it. I'm glad because I thought it may be too odd. Too many influence pulling from all over. Too much reliance on people having taste. But I guess I underestimate the surrounders sometimes.
Lamb's Legs is an art form of sorts. The things we do are purposeful, and we aim to make pieces that produce thought. It's not pretension. It's simply playing to human curiosities.
It's 4am. I'm cold. Depressed. Isolated. About time for me to head down to the couch to avoid being ravaged by bed bugs in my stupid shitbox room. Moving out soon. Maybe rebuild some walls? Who knows.
More involved music writing soon, hopefully. I just need to belch it out so I can tighten up my words. Music rules, ok.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
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