It was my freshman year of high school. We'd just moved into a new two-story house which afforded me many opportunities that our single story ranch house didn't. First and foremost was the ability to stay awake to all hours of the night in the bonus room, which would later be dubbed "The Man Cave." On one such night, I was up until about 3 a.m. desperately trying to beat Red Dead Revolver on the Playstation 2. After failing to beat the boss of the twelfth level (the half bear half man one) for about the twentieth time, I angrily turned off the console. I then proceeded to retreat into the warm cocoon of teenage angst known as MTV.
Now, this was MTV back in the day when they actually played music for about a half hour every other day or so, and usually the music came on once advertisers no longer found it profitable to inundate my generation with Pepsi, Coke and Dorito commercials. I got lucky that night and found a program that covered up and coming bands in the independent music scene. The featured band that night just happened to be Old Crow Medicine Show.
This is the point where every college student in America starts to have the opening guitar riff of "Wagon Wheel" running through their heads. Yes, that is by far the most popular and commercially successful song that OCMS has ever written. It's the song that has become a staple at tailgates, parties and southern college life in general. As a fan of shagging (state dance of SC for those of you with your head in the gutter), I'm a huge fan of Wagon Wheel. If I had a dollar for every time me and Emily Adams danced to this song, I'd be a rich man. However, it's only one song in a large catalog of songs written by an incredibly talented string band. In fact, Wagon Wheel earned OCMS the ire of the entire string band community who's hallmark for years has been heritage. Radio play is not part of the heritage of string band music.
Wagon Wheel is not completely indicative of the style of Old Crow Medicine Show. If you take the time to listen to entire albums of their work, you'll find that they are very much rooted in traditional string band music. Songs like "Big Time in the Jungle" and "James River Blues" whose lyrics are melancholy recollections of monumental events in American history, show that the band is not out solely for commercial success. They're musicians in the truest since of the world. A group of guys who've come together to take a very traditional form of music and imbue it with a certain je ne sais quoi that makes you want to delve deeper into the music and lyrics to find what makes it tick.
When I decided to write about Old Crow Medicine Show this week, I sat down and listened to the album "Big Iron World" in its entirety. I've pulled out my favorite song of that album for y'all to listen to.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Hymn for Her
We'll start off this music blogging project with a band I serendipitously stumbled upon this summer. It was a Friday night, I'd just gotten payed, and I wanted some wings from Luke's. Unfortunately I had forgotten that the clientele at Luke's is, aside from me and few others, made up exclusively of Gamecock fans. Normally this isn't a problem. A few jokes and a couple jeers between friends is about all you'd expect on a Friday night. However, on this Friday night the Gamecocks were playing in the College World Series. On nights like that it's best to avoid Luke's if you're not wearing garnet or black.
So we were faced with a monumental decision; a decision that could affect the entire outcome of the next four hours of our lives
We decided to go to McHale's Irish Pub which is known for two things: awesome burgers and terrible bands. We walked into the bar and saw the night's lineup written in a whimsical cursive script on the chalkboard which also informed us that kid's grilled cheese was on sale. When the band on this particular night began to set up I was expecting the worst. At first glance, I didn't like their look. They seemed like the kind of band that tried to win on gimmicks. I expected some sort of Belle and Sebastian knock off with trite attempts at irony and shoddy showmanship.
Boy, was I wrong.
The front man, clad in the attire you'd expect to find at a Nascar race, was simultaneously playing the guitar, drums, and harmonica. His bandmate, an interesting looking women, was strumming what appeared to be a homemade guitar made from a cereal box. It shouldn't have worked, but it did. They had a singularly unique sound, but if I had to describe it I'd call it a mix between Old Crow Medicine Show (circa "Big Iron World") and Beirut. With simply worded, yet poignant and very witty lyricism and some really solid technical instrumentals, the band really caught and kept my attention for the entire night. I actually bought their CD, The Amairican Stream and keep it in my car. It's become one of my favorite albums. What's really cool about this album is that it was recorded in the band's Airstream camper as they traveled across the country. It actually makes the lyric sheet in the album a really interesting read.
I'll leave you with one of my favorite songs.
So we were faced with a monumental decision; a decision that could affect the entire outcome of the next four hours of our lives
We decided to go to McHale's Irish Pub which is known for two things: awesome burgers and terrible bands. We walked into the bar and saw the night's lineup written in a whimsical cursive script on the chalkboard which also informed us that kid's grilled cheese was on sale. When the band on this particular night began to set up I was expecting the worst. At first glance, I didn't like their look. They seemed like the kind of band that tried to win on gimmicks. I expected some sort of Belle and Sebastian knock off with trite attempts at irony and shoddy showmanship.
Boy, was I wrong.
The front man, clad in the attire you'd expect to find at a Nascar race, was simultaneously playing the guitar, drums, and harmonica. His bandmate, an interesting looking women, was strumming what appeared to be a homemade guitar made from a cereal box. It shouldn't have worked, but it did. They had a singularly unique sound, but if I had to describe it I'd call it a mix between Old Crow Medicine Show (circa "Big Iron World") and Beirut. With simply worded, yet poignant and very witty lyricism and some really solid technical instrumentals, the band really caught and kept my attention for the entire night. I actually bought their CD, The Amairican Stream and keep it in my car. It's become one of my favorite albums. What's really cool about this album is that it was recorded in the band's Airstream camper as they traveled across the country. It actually makes the lyric sheet in the album a really interesting read.
I'll leave you with one of my favorite songs.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
And now I pretend to be a music blogger...
To all of the faithful readers of "The Thrilling Life" (Emily, Hayley , and Paige) please don't hate me for what I'm about to do...
I'm going to attempt to be a music blogger. For my English 304 class I have to keep a blog with a unified theme going for the remainder of the semester. While sitting and pondering what I could write about for week and week without driving myself insane, I decided on music. There aren't many things in the world that I enjoy more than music. If I had to choose between television and music, I'd have to choose the latter. It's an artistic medium that leaves the interpretation up to the listener, and that's pretty neat.
I think anyone who's met me knows that I'm not the world's biggest fan of the hipster, however, I'm taking a page from his book. For the next couple months I'm going to find a new band, listen to an album or so worth of music, then write about it. I hope that you'll enjoy it at least a little bit. If any of you have any suggestions for bands for me to listen to, I'd love to hear them. I feel as though I've gotten stuck in a bit of a musical rut as of late and, though I feel like a damned dirty hipster, I think this project has the potential to expand my horizons and introduce me to some great new music.
I'm going to attempt to be a music blogger. For my English 304 class I have to keep a blog with a unified theme going for the remainder of the semester. While sitting and pondering what I could write about for week and week without driving myself insane, I decided on music. There aren't many things in the world that I enjoy more than music. If I had to choose between television and music, I'd have to choose the latter. It's an artistic medium that leaves the interpretation up to the listener, and that's pretty neat.
I think anyone who's met me knows that I'm not the world's biggest fan of the hipster, however, I'm taking a page from his book. For the next couple months I'm going to find a new band, listen to an album or so worth of music, then write about it. I hope that you'll enjoy it at least a little bit. If any of you have any suggestions for bands for me to listen to, I'd love to hear them. I feel as though I've gotten stuck in a bit of a musical rut as of late and, though I feel like a damned dirty hipster, I think this project has the potential to expand my horizons and introduce me to some great new music.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
The Month of Health, or at least that's the plan...
Hello to all four of my followers. I hope you haven't missed me and my incredibly interesting musings too much.
So I guess I'll begin with this past weekend. I drove from Folly Beach to Athens, GA for the night. The usually debauchery ensued in Athens and I spent the rest of the weekend in Clemson. Needless to say, I woke up this morning feeling like there was an coked up gorilla trying to pound his way out of my skull. While sitting around and recounting the weekend's festivities with my friends, I threw out the obligatory hungover line "I feel like I don't want to drink for a month." A few moments after I'd uttered those oft-uttered words I thought about how many times I'd said that and how many times I'd found myself drinking two days later.
Not this time.
This time I've decided to actually attempt a month without drinking. I'm sure to some it would seem slightly pathetic that this, in my eyes, is a daunting task. Alas, it is. I'd venture to say I haven't gone more than ten days without going to a party since 2008 and I've probably not gone a week without at least having one beer. Running with the crowd I run with at school, and at home for that matter, it's tough to go more than a few days without receiving an invitation to drink to one degree or another. And, being a fan of the brewski, I rarely decline one of said invitations. This summer, I've been living at McHale's a few nights a week and I'm an official member of the Beer Club. This has been greatly detrimental to my bank account.
The other facet of my month of health will be a running program C25K. C25K is a program designed for people just like me: those who are completely and utterly out shape. There was, believe it or not, a time in my life when I was athletic and capable of handling strenuous workouts five days a week. Those times are long gone. Hopefully this whole C25K thing can get me back on track.
Thus, starting tomorrow, I'll go a full four weeks in complete sobriety while reigniting my once fervent love affair with the Northwestern track and weight room.
God help me.
So I guess I'll begin with this past weekend. I drove from Folly Beach to Athens, GA for the night. The usually debauchery ensued in Athens and I spent the rest of the weekend in Clemson. Needless to say, I woke up this morning feeling like there was an coked up gorilla trying to pound his way out of my skull. While sitting around and recounting the weekend's festivities with my friends, I threw out the obligatory hungover line "I feel like I don't want to drink for a month." A few moments after I'd uttered those oft-uttered words I thought about how many times I'd said that and how many times I'd found myself drinking two days later.
Not this time.
This time I've decided to actually attempt a month without drinking. I'm sure to some it would seem slightly pathetic that this, in my eyes, is a daunting task. Alas, it is. I'd venture to say I haven't gone more than ten days without going to a party since 2008 and I've probably not gone a week without at least having one beer. Running with the crowd I run with at school, and at home for that matter, it's tough to go more than a few days without receiving an invitation to drink to one degree or another. And, being a fan of the brewski, I rarely decline one of said invitations. This summer, I've been living at McHale's a few nights a week and I'm an official member of the Beer Club. This has been greatly detrimental to my bank account.
The other facet of my month of health will be a running program C25K. C25K is a program designed for people just like me: those who are completely and utterly out shape. There was, believe it or not, a time in my life when I was athletic and capable of handling strenuous workouts five days a week. Those times are long gone. Hopefully this whole C25K thing can get me back on track.
Thus, starting tomorrow, I'll go a full four weeks in complete sobriety while reigniting my once fervent love affair with the Northwestern track and weight room.
God help me.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Turning 21, and its magical effect on my hometown
I recently turned 21 years old. As I sat in Luke's sports bar I couldn't help but feel like the last year had been slowly and painfully leading directly to this moment. My old man handed me a double shot of Jack and the night was on. After the first round of miserable, vindictive shots my friends bought for me, I started to see this familiar bar in a very different light. Granted, I'd just taken shots known as "The Three Wise Men", "Prairie Fire", and "Cement Mixer" but I still felt as though this was more a moment of clarity than of drunken splendor.
It amazed me how I was sitting in a place that I'd been into a thousand times and I felt like a newcomer. I knew half the people sitting at the bar, the names of the bartenders, and even had an idea of who was cooking because my chicken fingers were a little on the crispy side. Still, it seemed as though I'd just been brought into the fold. I don't know if I was just because they'd always seen me as a kid or as Dave and Kerri's kid, but I just felt like it was different tonight.
That's about all I got.
It amazed me how I was sitting in a place that I'd been into a thousand times and I felt like a newcomer. I knew half the people sitting at the bar, the names of the bartenders, and even had an idea of who was cooking because my chicken fingers were a little on the crispy side. Still, it seemed as though I'd just been brought into the fold. I don't know if I was just because they'd always seen me as a kid or as Dave and Kerri's kid, but I just felt like it was different tonight.
That's about all I got.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Family Vacation
Does anyone else find family vacations to usually end up more stressful than any vacation ever should be? Is it just me?
My family actually gets along pretty well at home. There are rarely confrontations and harmony is the presiding notion o'er the land. However, there's just something that clicks the second we get into the car to drive off to the "relaxing" time away. Inexplicably a trip to the beach will end with everyone pissed off riding home in silence because of one thing or another. So, with my four hours of free time (due to the aforementioned silence) I tried to figure out why a predominately happy family can just suddenly become of group of, for lack of a better word, haters.
My first thought was the change in mood was just an outpouring of stress that had been slowly building since our last vacation. But, that couldn't have been the reason seeing as everything had been harmonious up to the point. There had been no slow build up of angst. Next I figured it was the brevity of the trip. With two working professionals and two kids both having full time jobs, the most we could get away for was three days. But I don't think that was it, I mean it was our only vacation and we were savoring it.
I've deduced that it all came down to expectations. Everyone expected our vacation to be centered around something different. My sixteen year old sister wanted to spend all day everyday shopping, my mom wanted the family to sit around and play cards together, the old man just wanted to sit on the beach for three consecutive days, and I just wanted to find a bar that served the "not quite 21" community's needs. When everyone started pulling their separate ways, it all just started falling apart. We didn't spend enough time on the beach or do enough shopping and I was far to sober for my own liking.
I guess this trip is just a microcosm of daily life in our society. For some reason or another people don't make their expectations clear. Either they don't know what they want, or they're scared to be labeled as "pushy" or "self-centered." I think that one of the most selfless things that you can do is put your expectations out there for the world to see, and then, not be a complete dick when things go your way. At least then, there's no confusion.
Maybe its just me.
My family actually gets along pretty well at home. There are rarely confrontations and harmony is the presiding notion o'er the land. However, there's just something that clicks the second we get into the car to drive off to the "relaxing" time away. Inexplicably a trip to the beach will end with everyone pissed off riding home in silence because of one thing or another. So, with my four hours of free time (due to the aforementioned silence) I tried to figure out why a predominately happy family can just suddenly become of group of, for lack of a better word, haters.
My first thought was the change in mood was just an outpouring of stress that had been slowly building since our last vacation. But, that couldn't have been the reason seeing as everything had been harmonious up to the point. There had been no slow build up of angst. Next I figured it was the brevity of the trip. With two working professionals and two kids both having full time jobs, the most we could get away for was three days. But I don't think that was it, I mean it was our only vacation and we were savoring it.
I've deduced that it all came down to expectations. Everyone expected our vacation to be centered around something different. My sixteen year old sister wanted to spend all day everyday shopping, my mom wanted the family to sit around and play cards together, the old man just wanted to sit on the beach for three consecutive days, and I just wanted to find a bar that served the "not quite 21" community's needs. When everyone started pulling their separate ways, it all just started falling apart. We didn't spend enough time on the beach or do enough shopping and I was far to sober for my own liking.
I guess this trip is just a microcosm of daily life in our society. For some reason or another people don't make their expectations clear. Either they don't know what they want, or they're scared to be labeled as "pushy" or "self-centered." I think that one of the most selfless things that you can do is put your expectations out there for the world to see, and then, not be a complete dick when things go your way. At least then, there's no confusion.
Maybe its just me.
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