Dark and Horizontal (Words You Don't Want to Hear About the Weather)

It was Sunday afternoon and it was still really hot. We knew the cold, storm-filled front was coming, but I thought it was arriving closer to 5 pm. But just after 3:30 pm the sky went dark--really dark. The boys were just finishing up a bit of Wii-time and Neats was catching a few minutes with a book and I was contemplating the next garden-centric dinner (more in another post) when I realized it went quiet and then went wicked.

The wind erupted and in a manner of minutes was almost horizontal--like something I had not seen since living in the Midwest. I had been tracking the weather on the computer but had not seen anything about the tornado warning we would later learn had been issued. Not that I needed a radio to tell me what we should do. We all hit the basement fast as the front came in. The power was off seconds later and no more than 20 minutes later the front had passed.

When we emerged, our yard was a mess--branches down all over, plants laid low, pots tipped over--but no major damage. We hunkered down to wait out the loss of power, skipped the gourmet meal and had sandwiches and what not from a quickly opened and closed refrigerator. After dinner, a quick walk up the street showed us we had not been overly cautious. Debris was everywhere and whole trees were ripped out of the ground. See for yourself.

These are some of the worst, but the damage all over the neighborhood was significant with branches and wires down on every block. It wasn't a tornado, but bad enough!

We would have reported earlier, but we haven't had power for 48 hours--it is just back on a bit ago. The upside is that the storm wrenched all the humidity out of the air for the time we lost power, so for the first time in weeks we enjoyed the weather. The boys survived without any video game access (and I survived without music) although The Artist at one point called out: "Come back power! I miss you electricity."

Indeed. On the other hand, it wasn't so bad being disconnected. Looking forward to that same feeling due to vacation rather than inclement weather.

Another Fine Adventure with Frontier Ruckus

As if having just endured a long, grey winter followed by a cold, rainy spring and emerging into the wonders of early summer, Frontier Ruckus sighs and settles in to look back on what they have passed through and forward to what will replace the past. Deadmalls and Nightfalls, the bands second full album, is all about the shedding and sloughing off, abandonment and change, and (as always seems the case with lyricist Matthew Milia) memory and place.

Now, I had some significant angst as the release of this album approached because I love their first album The Orion Songbook so much and my expectations were high. No worries. Just about everything that I liked about that first effort holds true here. Milia's lyrics are as lush and poetic as ever filled with nature and smells, creating landscapes jam packed with imagery--as if Walt Whitman is walking through Michigan with a guitar. The album opens with Milia buzzing and worrying that "all the vegetation in the settled world is stirring" which it will continue to do throughout the album.

Musically, the album is both similar to the first album . . . and not. I thought that the first album got a bit "musical saw" happy (a minor criticism), but that is clearly not an issue here. The songs rely on Milia's guitar and Davey Jones banjo to build songs around with various instruments from fiddle to horn to harmonium providing texture and giving individual songs a different feel. As I noted when the album started streaming I was particularly happy to hear Anna Burch singing harmonies on this album as her steely voice is a perfect counter part to Milia's lead vocals. Overall, the songs are extremely well constructed and the band (and the production of the band) is clearly getting a bit more subtle and sophisticated.

At the same time, I have to say that my first reaction was that I wanted a bit more, um, ruckus. In fact, I was surprised to see PopMatters suggest that the main difference between the first and second albums was the "diversity of pace and rhythm in almost every song." I agree that there is sophisticated constructions on many songs, including "Ontario" as PM notes, but overall this album has a much more even tempo to it than the first. It is also somewhat more laid back, particularly on the back half of the album which is considerably more subdued than the first album which has a number of wonderfully rambunctious songs throughout the album.

On the other hand, as I listen (and listen and listen) to Deadmalls & Nightfalls, each and every song grows on me and this is part of what makes this album such a strong album. It is wonderfully similar and different all at once and, ultimately, at least, an equal to the first album--which is to say, not to be missed!

Now, you can still hear the whole album over on the band's Facebook page, but let me put up a couple samples for you to hear. But let me make a special request here. I don't often get the chance to write about and recommend bands that many of you won't have heard of--but that is the case here. And that means that this is a band that both needs and deserves your support. So after you listen to some of their tunes, go buy this album and while you are at it, get their first one too.

Deciding which songs to share was difficult given how much I am enjoying the whole album. "Silverfishes" was always clearly going to be one I wanted to share as it is simply a classic Frontier Ruckus song. After that it is tempting to put something from the first half of the album which is so strong with the two opening tracks really just setting the stage perfectly. But let me switch gears a bit and share one of the wonderfully slow songs which also includes some nice fiddle work that makes you think that might be a feature we see more of in the future. These two tracks also come in the middle of the disc (tracks 5 and 7) so you get a sense of the shift between the front and back half of the disc.

Silverfishes

Does Me In

Can't wait to listen to this one as we make the long drive up from DC, past Oriontown to the pines and birch of northern Michigan and the big lake.

Glass Half ______ ?

Listen folks. It is hot. Really hot. Really, really hot. I know I have already complained once this year, but when you start getting not just heat advisories, but excessive heat advisories (cuz it is going to be like 103 friggin' degrees) and folks are talking about two weeks of 90 plus degree days in a row (after a previous 11 day stretch of the same), I claim a little latitude in how much I get to complain. But, hey I am a positive kind of guy, right. So I am trying to focus on the upside.

After all it is only a couple weeks until we head north to the big lake where we will be joined by Little Sis and her kids. And until then, we have the benefit of great shade trees, central air and half a house that is down close to the cool, dirt earth.

Then again, being trapped in the house is a bit less enjoyable when the summer cold grunge is running rampant through the brothers with the Captain down Monday and Tuesday, the Artist picking it up late Tuesday into Wednesday and now the Engineer taking it on today. But hey, they are strong boys who rebound quickly--and they are cute most of the time so their mother probably won't strangle them.

And let's face it, I am lucky enough to have a job and that takes me out of the house, so, perhaps, I will miss the grunge (we all know how mothers are stronger than fathers and fight through mild illness immune to these things anyway). Then again, all of my colleagues seem to think that having sick children isn't enough of a challenge and so have brought their own versions of the grunge into work.

But really, I can't complain. This all shall pass and in the meantime, the garden continues to give and give. Eggplant, peppers, spinach, chard, carrots, squash, cucumbers and tomatoes are just about to turn. Of course, we have to go out everyday to water so as to try and keep these poor plants alive since it is hot--did I mention it is hot? So hot, in fact, you don't want to go out and do anything in the garden. Oh, and by the way, rain is becoming a memory and when it does rain it makes you think Noah's family must be around building something, but then it goes away for another week (it is more like wandering in the desert than 40 days and 40 nights).

Sorry, I didn't mean to start again, really. Because hey, we are all here and together and someday we will look back on this episode of summer cabin fever fondly--really we will!

The National’s Intoxicating Silver City Angst

Every once in a while, an artist comes along that manages to break through my self-imposed set of rules regarding the intricate relationship between the seasons and music. Everything about The National’s music tells me that I should be listening to this during late autumn as the light goes low and the days chill and shorten--or in the actual dark days of winter--or at a minimum during a long stretch of rain-soaked grey days in spring. But definitely not in the lush, long days of summer.

There is nothing about The National’s albums—either lyrically or musically that says summer. There is nothing that you could really be described as up-tempo (there is some driving pieces, but nothing that makes you consider getting up to dance). That might be just as much because there is nothing you would really describe as upbeat. Certainly nothing you could describe as light-hearted and carefree. And yet, here we are in July and I cannot stop listening to this band, which I have been for the last several months straight.

My listening started with the band’s fourth album Boxer and was quickly followed with the recently released High Violet—both of which deserve attention. Both albums share certain qualities.

Musically, there is plenty of mid-tempo to slow-paced tunes, many of which build with more and more guitar and keyboard being layered on as the song progresses. Drummer Bryan Devendorf’s work is critical and often adds contrast with a faster-paced, rhythmic phrasing underneath, although most often with a muted tom-tom sound than any in your face rock-drumming—and cymbals are close to nonexistent with the exception of the hi-hat. I am not sure if anyone every gets above the middle-C register on these tunes. Lead singer Matt Berninger’s voice is deep, gravelly and ominous and most songs frame that tone and character. That said, one of the things that make these albums (and they are most definitely albums) so solid is that while there is a certain consistent sound through them, the songs are carefully and complexly built which gives the album a rich variation which is probably why I keep listening.

Lyrically, Berninger is clearly working through a bit of angst in these songs. I don’t mean that in a simple way as these songs aren’t overblown teenage angst (not surprisingly, since these guys aren’t teenagers—as if that stops other songwriters from adolescent obsession). Know this seems more driven by emotional struggles of everyday life in young-but-aging-adulthood—relationships, careers, self-identity and generally trying to figure out navigate life in a material and superficial world toward emotional happiness. But this is also where the albums differ for me.

Boxer seems much more concerned with figuring out one’s place in life, careers and accepting (or not) the long stretch of adulthood and all the responsibilities that entails. Not surprisingly given the career paths of these guys, much of that seems to focus on the grind and rat-race of work life and the status chasing that permeates so much of professional life. The Silver City professionals that run through this album seeming stand in for past lives abandon for a truer calling--although you never quite get the feeling that anything is remotely figured out here. Fitting in is not something that you get a sense that these guys do real well (or at least believe they do). Even the songs that seem more hopeful seem to be more about escape and starting over than anything else.

High Violet is a more personal album in many ways. There is still that sense of running from the professional rat-race, but the songs here seem to have more on an inner-focus than the previous album. Songs look both forward and backward searching for answers in relationships, family and share a general self-reflective assessment. But here again, don’t go looking for a writer that has solved theses questions. The lyrics of these songs are much more about process than answers and The National seems quite happy to live there.

Now, I don’t want to leave with the impression that these albums are just dark and depressing. Not true. They are wonderfully crafted musically and lyrically and leave listeners fully engaged and plenty to chew on--like any good piece of art should.

Mistaken for Strangers / Boxer (Buy Album)
Green Gloves / Boxer
Bloodbuzz Ohio / High Violet (Buy Album)
Conversation 16 / High Violet

The Next Time the Brothers Say They're Bored

I believe I will show them this to provide some inspiration!

Hat tip to Josh Spear via Mashable Twitter List.

Anxious and Giddy: New Frontier Ruckus Album

I have been waiting to get a bit closer to July 20th to place my next disc order so I can include the new album from Frontier Ruckus, Deadmalls & Nightfalls. This album will surely get much more attention from this here blog as I totally fell in love with their first album, but I had to note today's wonderful surprise. Mid-afternoon as I trudged through the first day at the office and the second day of jet lag, I got the notification that the new album was streaming over at the band's Facebook BandPage.

I obviously haven't listened closely yet, but let me just say that I was very happy to hear Anna Burch (I assume) singing harmony on the album even though she appears to have left the band--those harmonies were a key component of their sound on the first album. So go check it out and I'll be back to this one for sure after I have it on disc and listen to it a few hundred times.

Seattle: Food, Travel Karma and Parental Guilt

The Hunger
The noticeable silence here has been due to a week-long work trip up to the great city of Seattle. Not that I saw much of it since most of the time was spent in meeting rooms, both large and small. The highlight was a series of dinners with colleagues at the end of long days of work—almost all which featured seafood. Highlights included the:

• red curry thai noodles and sushi at Dragonfish;
• tuna tatiki and the spicy poke salad at Red Fin;
• crab cakes and kasu marinated black cod at Steelhead Diner (best restaurant of the week); and,
• the curried mussels and olive-crusted halibut at BlueAcre.

May we all be so lucky to live in a place where that kind of seafood is found on every corner!

Travel Karma or You Can Never Get Ahead
So my travel to Seattle started at 4:00 am Tuesday morning and looked like a long day which involved a connection through Atlanta (don’t ask). However, upon arriving at the airport gate I found myself being paged and told the direct flight had seats and was leaving now if I wanted to hop on. Uh, yeah. But what about my luggage—on its way to Seattle? Well, we will see once we get there. Alas, first bag off the plane. But now I am in Seattle at 9:30 a.m.—surely I won’t be able to get into my hotel room. Wrong again—straight in I go. Wow, that was some stroke of travel luck.

But of course we all know one fundamental rule—air travel basically bites and you know that for every good turn, two bad ones are on there way. Fortunately, I only had to wait for my return trip. We get to the airport, board the plane, pull away from the gate, stop, only to hear the captain announce that he heard a “funny noise.” Back to the gate—an hour of waiting to discover all was okay and away we go again. Unlike, the earlier experience with baggage, my bag was not first—not that it would have mattered since we had to wait 45 minutes for our bags to be unloaded.

When all was said and done, we got home three hours later than scheduled—exactly the amount of time that I saved on the way out. Hmmm.

That’s OK, It’s Just a Once in a Lifetime Event
Now leaving home always carries a load of sadness and guilt with it, but this one had a extra kick. You see, Emmett starts Kindergarten this Fall and as a result, he gets to go to the summer session which just happened to start the day I left for Seattle. Now technically, his first day at the new school is in August, but still it was a drag to miss his first actual day. Better mark my calendar now for the Fall because who would want to miss this?!

Slave (Cook) to the Garden

You would think with a four day weekend, I could get a post up here but I tell you dear readers, the pool, baseball and the Wii take a lot of time and work! Of course there has also been cooking--and the more time consuming "planning to cook" activity which these days amounts to looking out at the garden and seeing what we are overrun with and must eat and eat now.

It never fails that when we plant a garden, I tend to think of it all coming on at the same time leading to thoughts like: "we'll have fresh lettuce and tomatoes for salads, sandwiches and what not" or "doesn't a fresh pea and eggplant dish sound good?" Of course the reality is that it comes in waves. First came the lettuce (which is still coming in piles), followed by peas and then cucumbers and now peppers and squash. Really--no complaining here. It is great to buy virtually nothing for dinner and to eat these wonderfully fresh veggies. Here are a few dishes from the last week.

First up is your standard fresh veggie dice with peas, peppers, zucchini and summer squash.

Then you got your quick cesar salad out of our fresh lettuce with garlic crostini.

Lastly here is a zuchinni / summer squash ricotta cheeze cake which is more of a quiche.

This last one might be of interest, so here is the recipe as I did not just breezily whip it up out of thin air--although I did modify to use the many herbs we have growing using primarily oregano and rosemary this time around.

Now I will be gone for a week and when I return expect to thinking about what to do with our giant chard, the malabar spinach, eggplant and maybe, just maybe a tomato--oh let there be tomatoes!

An Open Letter to the Stumps

Dear Stumps:

I have just recovered from removing you, but that is not your fault. I hold no malice against the three of you. In fact, I never wanted to meet you in the first place (again, I don't mean to offend). Were it not for the wrath of Old Man Winter which laid low two of the leyland cypresses you faithfully supported and peeled a main artery off of the third, we would never have dreamed of the painful extraction process that we have just completed (the pain I refer to is, of course, mine).

No, in fact we loved those trees and wonderful

wall of green they created all year. They scattered the morning sun as it rose--the sun that now blindingly blasts through the kitchen window each morning during breakfast. They served as home a host of birds including the pair of cardinals who sprayed specks of color against your deep background. And they were a fortress under which the boys invented adventures.

And so although your resistance may have caused me to say things about you that were unkind and even hurtful, it was with saddness that we removed you. Do not mistake the names I called you for anything but admiration for the knotted complex of roots that you put down and wrapped tightly around rock and mud and anything else that would provide a secure foundation for each towering conifer. If I lashed out, it was only because it was almost unfathomable that you could push your roots through ground that required repeated blows with a pick axe to break.

But now we must say goodbye old friends. In your place we will place another evergreen who we will urge to stand as tall and strong as those trees that you held erect. Like foes in a battle, I shall never forget you (well, until the dementia sets in), but even then I will look back at this letter and remember.

your friend--

cps