Month: February 2015

Sturgill Simpson

Get off your high horse right this very minute and accept the fact that if you are on a high horse you are at least on your way to being a cowboy.

Country music is not all bad. Correction, country music is not bad. People love to hate it. Sometimes I feel like its thought of like a universal truth, obviously country is hated.

Sure, some of it isn’t the best, but that can be said for every genre. And I’m constantly surprised by people who like folk music but don’t see the connection between folk and country and roots and bluegrass.

While you might not want to ride around town in my car as I sing along to Dierks Bentley, the Eli Young Band, Eric Church, or the Zac Brown Band you might, just maybe want to give Sturgill Simpson a chance. He harkens back to old school country that my parents would have grown up with. But, if you can deny Willie Nelson then maybe there’s no hope for you.

Now lets get our boots on and two step.

Did someone say darts?

“So, we throwing darts tonight?” she questioned in passing.

It was Wednesday, and if this Wednesday was anything like every other Wednesday for the past five and a half months, they were probably going to go throw darts.

“I’m always up for a game of darts, but I have plans at 8.”

“That’s plenty of time.”

As the workday slowly chugged to a close they meandered their way down the four and a half icy blocks it took to get from point A to the two slightly shabby, but always welcoming dart boards at their pub. They stepped inside and made their way up the 15 dimly lit steps it took to get from the street to the oak and green wall panels they knew so well. It was the kind of place that they were proud to call theirs. It lacked pretence. It lacked good lighting. And it lacked a reliable supply of beer and menu options. But it was that dingy simplicity that gave it its charm.

Continue reading “Did someone say darts?”

A foray into hot new hip hop

It’s funny how we build a conception of our identities around the music we listen to.

Oh, you listen to this?

You don’t know about them?

You’re a metal head?

I hate country. (That’s a lie, I love country).

I, personally, would have never said I was someone who liked hip hop. Ever.

But looking back, I have definitely listened to hip hop, and I have definitely loved it. Back in 2009 I listened to Kid Cudi’s album Man on the Moon: The End of Day relentlessly for months and let’s be honest, I’ve loved Kanye’s hits, and who can deny Missy Elliot?

So then, I can’t say I don’t like hip hop. And if I don’t dislike it, maybe I should spend some more time with it. Because maybe it has a lot to offer me, even if I’m not struggling with an obscene amount of hookers and blow. I have to admit the beats make me want to move, and the lyrics are (often but not always) affecting.

If you haven’t given it a chance, maybe you should.

Currently I’ve been listening to Drake’s new album If You’re Reading This It’s Already Too Late on repeat since I downloaded it Friday afternoon. I never understood the Drake hype, but that was because I never actually listened to Drake. I’ve since mended my ways.

If you’re not cool with expletives, I suggest you stay far, far away.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love. Love. Love.

According to John and Paul, it’s all you need.

We go to great lengths for the things and the people we love. But I mean, if all you need to survive is love, then why not. Suddenly ‘alls fair in love and war’ seems a reasonable notion.

I find the idea of finding your ‘one true love,’ idealistic and irrational. I mean, one person out of all the people in the world? Life isn’t Cinderella, your one true love won’t find you because you have a magic slipper that only fits your foot that a kind, sparkly, and somewhat rotund woman in a blue dress gave you (but let’s not get too cynical this close to Valentine’s day.)

Continue reading “It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

the blues

So far I’ve only shared albums with you that I’ve loved for some time. Today I give you something I just fell in love with.

Recently, I inherited my parents vinyl collection. I’ve been making my way through the albums I remember fondly from my childhood and many I have no recollection of.

While I’m certain I listened to my Dad’s blues albums as a kid I don’t really have any particular memories of them. I was more concerned about spinning The Beatles White Album and Abbey Road than anything else. Childhood tunnel vision as it was.

The other day, knowing generally who BB King was, I threw on this album and I’ve since listened to it with near obsessive adoration every day. I’m sure this isn’t news to a lot of you, but it’s perfection.

I can’t wait to see what other gems this record collection introduces me to.

Blues means what milk does to a baby. Blues is what the spirit is to the minister. We sing the blues because our hearts have been hurt, our souls have been disturbed. – Alberta Hunter

Why I Gym

I’ve always been an active kid. My parents would make my brothers and I go outside and run around, we spent our days climbing fences, swinging from trees, and riding our bikes around town from park to park. I’m sure I complained, but really I loved it. I’ve always loved getting active. I grew up playing sports in school then graduated to the adult world of fitness centres.

In recent years I took up running, and more recently heavy weight lifting. I’m not here to tell you to do the same, or prophesize about how it will change your life, but I will tell you why I go to the gym or run long distances or pay a someone to kick my ass.

Continue reading “Why I Gym”

The Avett Brothers

There are some bands, and some albums that can make me sashay down the street with my headphones in, lip syncing to music that only I can hear with a giant, stupid grin on my face. It usually occurs to me partway down the sidewalk that I must look slightly crazy, but I’ll be damned if I suppress the urge to dance for how silly I look.

There are some bands, and some albums that can make me sashay down the street with my headphones in, lip syncing to music that only I can hear with a giant, stupid grin on my face. It usually occurs to me partway down the sidewalk that I must look slightly crazy, but I’ll be damned if I suppress the urge to dance for how silly I look.

I first heard them, and most of this album live at the Calgary Folk Fest. I then proceeded to binge listen to it for the following four months. I now have every single album by the Avett Brothers, and they’re all great, but this one holds a special place in my heart because it ignited my love for them.

I strongly encourage a listen. Followed by a boisterous walk through the streets.