One Song

Sometimes I listen to music just to hold my arms out at my sides like I'm flying a cute little airplane. Sometimes I breathe through my exposed teeth as I stare blankly out of my window.  Sometimes I do both of the above things with the proper soundtrack....

Knowing absolutely nothing about David Pritchard, nor his 1977 album Nocturnal Earthworm Stew, I will admit to being completely fucking mesmerized by his track "An Admission of Guilt". I spent the better part of last week...

Hit play on this song and then imagine me emerging, almost birthing, naked and lumpy, and fully coated with a thick transparent mucous, out of a large blooming flower. As I stand, I shake my hips to and fro, whipping the clear, sticky goop from my thighs to...

I draw hearts on my Trapper Keeper for Haerts. I listen to Haerts in a rented tux with the untied bowtie dejectedly hung around my neck. I kick the dirt on the ground in frustration for Haerts. Why? Becuase...

I clicked play on this sumbitch this morning after my kids got on the bus. It's been unseasonably warm, the windows are still all dew-ey, the sun was coming up to my right, and I'm only wearing my trademark hoodie and jeans as I drive myself to work.  Simply...

My post rock appetite runs deep. Runs deep. So deep. So deep. {insert comment about how it puts my butt to sleep, but in a good way and not at all sexual} *pops hip* When my thrusting hip hop fists and pulsating electronic dance hips need a rest, I can always...

I listened to this track more than a dozen times this weekend. Feeling like a take on something Saltillo would release, this shit has me comfortably brooding. As a sucker for strings that are tastefully executed, I'm even more of a minor key fanboy than one...

You only get one life.  And it might take the whole damn thing to come to terms with it. Admitting your faults and fears and insecurities is really fucking hard.  I find the balance between striving for betterment and feeling content to be a high wire walk...

Next sunny day, as the winter blanket of clouds and cold offers a respite, as the bitter and hopeless glances at checking account balances fade to paydays, as the shit show of 2016 gives way to a new year full of stout resolutions and hopeful commitments, hop...

When I used to live in California, my roommates and I would sort of meet up around the same time every day after work. We'd dick around for an hour or so, talk about what food to cook or whatever, prepare to intoxicate ourselves, and then walk towards Sands...