Arts and Music Fest at the Oriental

I want to give a huge thanks to everyone that came out and watched Kendra, Scotty and me (that is totally the correct usage of me) play at the Oriental Theater on Saturday. My parents came along, requests for Johnny Cash were fulfilled, my parents and some random couple danced . . . it was more than I could have ever hoped for.

I'm going to be doing a phone interview on a college radio station in Pennsylvania this week about the indie scene in Denver - which I think is hilarious, considering I've been a part of Denver's "scene" for about . . . one gig now. Haha.

I don't think I'm going to play Avo's tonight, as I'm still reeling and smiling from Saturday . . . this week and next are going to be writing weeks as I dust off my Teles, old amps and pedals and try to write some more "upbeat" tunes. I'm just feeling a little more rootsy-rock since seeing the Black Keys and My Morning Jacket at Red Rocks last Thursday.

I'll post lyrics when I have them :)

B

Avo's Tonight

I'll be hosting at Avogadro's Number tonight, but I don't think I'll play. I played every week for a long while, right after all that writing . . . and I feel another streak of material sort of coming on. Also, I hate mixing myself on suc a sweet sound system because in the middle of the set I hear something wrong with the mix and it should be perfect on a setup like at Avo's.

Kendra will be playing, so I'll be able to mix her live for the first time in like four or five YEARS, and it will be nice to be a part of making her a recording. She has always asked me the best way to get some tracks down and I should have always said to play at Avo's rather than being proud and saying I'd help her out with recording. We never seem to find time to hang out much less set up an afternoon or day-long recording session, and it's so easy with that tasty sound system.



I don't know how I feel about that last post. I need to edit two or three lines and double the verses, add something really . . . something really good. About grain, walking across water or an island. Charts or an island; no man is an island if it isn't this guy. Or seeing the same sun under different skies and what her hands must look like, folded in prayer watching the harbor. I should have my new friend in Austin write a few verses from her perspective. Anyway, another time. I'm going to drive home to Fort Collins now, back into the fray at work and getting ready for school next week. Yikes.

Brian

Peace Made

Hit us at the starboard
A gale to prove a harsh world
Cutting sails I cut by hand

On timbers felled on my own land
Worn by weather, salt and sand
A vagabond of faith, I drift

I see my hands, still black with pitch
That clutch this wreck by fingertips
They held her once, and never will again

And now, in this fray
Peace will make its own way
Not for her, and not for me
But for a jealous sky and this damned sea

First Post.

So here's my first post on what will become something between a lyrics pad and just stream of consciousness check-ups with Dr. Me. I considered a tumblr for such a thing, but they get so confusing because they allow a lot of stream, too much. I'm not as saavy as I pretend to be with such things and tumblrs get me all crossed up chronologically. Take the Cardinals', for example. Alas.

Here's something I started tonight. Praise Jeebus for editions.

~

May need a little strum to breathe
To get sleep, to take it with me
From the other-other room, your sigh
From lungs where the melodies rise

To sing, to bring you your dreams
By train tracks, flowers to the knee

Rail ties lie under memories
Dust in the cuffs, in your jeans
From the running in pockets, a start
From the day with the music apart

To sing, to sing you your dreams
Wisdom, two stitches on seams

For modesty as Maginot lines
Dear prudence there, keeping time
From us the lonewolf blitzers
From lust the Pyrrhic victor

To sing, to sing you your dreams
Pride, artillery and me

~