What I miss most about playing music regularly is those little two to twenty minute jams that come out of nowhere and just murrrrrder. Bass player is fiddling on a riff, the drummer is situated and starts in behind it and both start to smile. Guitarist is halfway across the room with a pick in his mouth SPRINTING to plug in and join, strap flapping over his shoulder behind him.
Then it's like you're playing in the best band on the planet because of that specific feeling. It's impromptu, appears out of thin air, but it feels like nothing else.
It's over before it ever really began and more than half the time you never get that groove back. Even if you recorded that shit it will never return quite the same bro.
So you have to enjoy the F...
However long ago it was when I was introduced The Clouds Are Ghosts, I remember feeling like I could tell where they were headed. Like, I knew dudes had this sort of post rock Band of Horses meets theatrical androgyny shit going on, but I thought it was going to end up turning more cinematic rather than kitschy. I didn't think a band this fucking good was going to break away from what works of course, I was just hoping they wouldn't make music any less introspective maybe.
So my second run in with these assbutts is their LP titled Fractures. Back are the post rock like instrumentals that are airy and delicate until they're yelling at you in slow motion and making you feel guilty for masturbating to...
Post rock is one of my vices.
I chose the word vice because it isn't like it's a hobby, habit or anything that actually makes me a better father or employee or human, post rock helps me not pay attention. Post rock helps me sit among the assholes and imagine them as little cubes of cheese, strategically melted to resemble rock formations in far off lands. I can look right through people if situated with the right soundtrack, and post rock has an 80% success rate when it comes to taking me from present to absent, or involved to oblivious.
Yet, before you assume I'm saying muthafuckers can't get shit done when post rock is in the brostereo, let me describe the other half of the post rock listening...
Holy shit this sounds like early Mestizo to me for some reason. Love the beat, love the flow, love the hairy sidekick in the shopping cart makin that lip flutter shit.
I have no idea who Be-1 or Sweet P. Boogaloo are, but The Struggle is fucking tight.
I am fortunate in life.
I know this.
One of the main reasons I don't complain about things other than lazy musicians (read: tag your music bro) is that I realize I'm one of the lucky ones. I am inherently happy. I realize people think I'm a freak for being so outgoingly fucking happs in public and on the internet, but if you were sitting where I'm sitting, you'd be pretty fucking happs too bro.
Quite possibly the biggest thing that makes me so consistently happy throughout the day (besides the corny answer of the wife & kids bro) is that I'm surrounded by music. From the second I wake up until the second I don't notice I'm not awake anymore...