These past few days my family and I have been away from home, on our first family vacation actually, but in that time I've done a lot of thinking. My kids are 4, 2 and 2, and they exhaust me to the point of frustration most days. My wife tries her best to placate them when she sees my blood boiling, but it's on me that my blood boils in the first place.
Granted, my patience has increased 1000 percent since becoming a parent in 2008, but I should have no reason to complain about my kids because they're healthy as Fuck, happy as Fuck, and so full of fucking energy, they run circles around most people. Literally, they run circles around most people. Like, seriously bro bro, I have two running around me pants less right now bro. I'm lucky as Fuck to have created them, and I owe it to myself to kick myself in the fucking nuts when they drive me fucking cray yo.
So what the Fuck does any of this shit have to do with the band The Calm Blue Sea and their self titled album from 2011?
I spent every second I had available to myself this past weekend listening to The Calm Blue Sea. That combined 20 minutes on the shitter, that 15 minutes I had to myself while running out to grab luggage from the minivan, the hour or so while the rest of the family slept on the way up there, any and every chance I had I took advantage of it with a lil TCBS bro. Post rock always seems to allow me the disconnect I need to reflect, while at the same giving me something fucking awesome to jam the Fuck out to. Ferseriousness, on more than one occasion I used a damp beach towel as a flowing mane of rock hair to assist me in banging my huge bald motherfucking head against an imaginary wall.
The time I've allowed this album to effect me has kind of given me one of those newfound pieces of hope that you usually only get after an incredibly rewarding bowel movement, or when you're coming down off mushrooms. It's a peaceful clarity that I hadn't really realized that I needed so badly until I had it. I think the wife and I will be able to keep our insanity in check while the kids grow out of this particular period in their development where their ears don't work and they throw fits because it gets them pez candies and shit, and knowing that I'm conscious of wanting to be a better dad makes me kind of glad I have those moments where I feel like a fucking shitFuck of a father. If we never made mistakes in anything, how would we know we were getting better at anything?
Yea, a post rock album made me think all these thoughts bro.
The Calm Blue Sea have a weird combination of gorgeous post and indie rock that I haven't really heard before, outside of my musical masturbatory dreams where I create different-frankengenre-blended super groups like And So I Watch You From Afar featuring the vocals of Benjamin Francis Leftwich, or Maserati featuring the vocal stylings of Frank Ocean. Yet, what's weird here is that The Calm Blue Sea are their own frankenstein, because as huge motherfucking pert motherfucking tittaaaays as they are themselves instrumentally, they occasionally drop in these shrill and introspective vocals that remind me of Band of Horses, yet without all the plaid and car commercials.
The song Literal is the perfect example of what The Calm Blue Sea are to me right now. It's fucking perfect. Like I said a few weeks ago when describing their sound, it feels like I'm running away from home through a corn field at night and there are headlights encroaching on my tail. It's dramatic, intense, sad, empowering, deafening, peaceful, riotous, peaceful protest turned all out fucking orgy, The Calm Blue Sea have given my ears and introspective brain a reprieve from the day to day by casting and filming a full length feature film inside my head.
Thankfully this feature film finds me on the receiving end of many blowjobs bro, played just before and after the romantically sensual-like 7 minute mark on The Rivers That Run Beneath This City. And I wear an awesome jacket that has many many patches, which I will model for you by turning slowly in a circle under bright stage lights during the entire fucking song After The Legions. And people call me a really cool nickname. And I choose to be bald in this movie, because it's easier to wipe off the blood of the damned vs. having to take a tubby every time I got le splatterz during the battle scene bro bro, which takes place at the 4:56 point of This Will Never Happen Again.
Top 10 post rock album for me. Let's hope their album, Arrivals & Departures, that comes out in October 2012 isn't a piece of fucking donkey fucking Fuckshit flying out of a flying Fuck of a shitcrap fluffernutter Fuckwich bro bro. If it is, they should all shave their heads and move to the Chicago suburbs and give parenting seminars about creating introspective post rock albums that make weirdos like me want to be a better dude, dude.