Theme Park Experience

I am very thankful how 2015 turned out to be. Work remains steady and satisfying. Doing a podcast was a great decision, as it's helped me reconnect with friends and make new connections in the process. I wrote a lot of articles about musicians I care about. And I found someone special who makes every aspect of my life better and rewarding. (Thank you, Hope!) For the first time in many years, I listened to even more music than usual, thanks to a Spotify Premium account. From finding the joys of the Marshall Tucker Band to Frightened Rabbit, the search for music continues to be a rewarding journey. As for the full albums I enjoyed that were released this year, well, that list is rather short compared to the list of songs I really liked (which, you can listen to  here ).  So, as 2015 comes to a close, I present my favorite albums of the year, as well as my favorite shows.   Albums Deafheaven, New Bermuda ( Spotify ) To be frank, I was not sure Deafheaven could make a

It has been a full year since I lost my friend Evan Chronister to an accident. I have written plenty about what he meant to me when he was alive ( this piece and this piece sum up everything pretty well) and I have certainly not shied away from talking about him to friends, family, and co-workers during these past twelve months. This is how I've processed the grief, which I accept is an ongoing matter. And I think a part of this process is sharing what life has been like without him in the physical sense. When I go to record stores these days and see a vinyl record reissue, I remember the caution he told me, as well as many others: the record label is ripping you off! Many reissues of classic albums simply ported over a CD mastering to vinyl, thus making it not an actual vinyl mastering. He could tell in the sound quality, and while I took his advice seriously, I have yet to do a side-by-side comparison. The guy cared about music listening as much as the music itself. Onl

Once again, another band trailer robbery has happened in North Texas. This time, the trailer belonged to Iwrestledabearonce, an emerging schizoid metal band. It was stolen when it was parked in a church parking lot in Denton on North Bell Street just for a night a couple of weeks ago. A drum kit, all of their merchandise, road cases and speaker cabinets were stolen on September 20. It was estimated at a $20,000 loss. Yesterday, a GoFundMe page was set up to recoup some of the money they lost in the theft, with an initial goal of $7,500. They set their initial goal to fulfill their upcoming U.S. tour dates starting at the end of this month, but additional funds are gladly accepted. (The funds already raised were close to $5,000 by last night.) The band’s bassist, Michael “Ricky” Martin, lives across the street from the church where the trailer was stolen, and had thought of Denton as a safe place where you don’t have to worry about a theft of this magnitu

A sign you're making progress in life is when rejection doesn't destroy any (or most) of your self-confidence. I got that sign today when I learned a book proposal of mine was not accepted. And while it's disappointing I won't spend the next twelve months of my life committed to that proposed project, I certainly am not taking this like a torpedo hit my sailboat. Given how internally I process things and how sensitive I am, it's really easy to take things personally. Before I realize what's happening, I'm playing the Victim card. Alas, that didn't happen today. Instead, it was a reminder of how sometimes things work out the way you thought they would, while other times, things work out in ways you never expected. (Sometimes those ways really suck and leave scars, but other times, they work out way better than you could ever imagine.) I submitted a proposal for a short book defending Metallica's St. Anger , an album that has been the easy dog to

Given how long I’ve admired Kevin Smith’s work and ethos, it’s a little strange how I had never seen him live before. I first heard about him in 1994 and really got into him in my college years, especially in 2000, when I played catch-up on all of his films on DVD. Whenever he’d come to town in the past, it would be at big conventions or nights I couldn’t go. So, when it was announced he would be at the legendary Texas Theatre on a Friday night, I figured now was the right time. Seeing Kevin in person (and spending two hours with a sold-out crowd) was like catching up with a college friend over the course of an evening. Though he technically answered only one question, he delivered an inspiring rant about accepting yourself when failure is possible at any time. Recapping the Wayne Gretzky adages of missing every shot you don't take, and you should skate where the puck is going instead of where it's been, he built on those pieces of wisdom. (I heard a lot of people

Late one night during my vacation in Nashville, I saw an article in my Facebook newsfeed from Vanity Fair with the headline, "Tinder and the Dawn of the 'Dating Apocalypse.'" I read through it and thought, Is this really what I encounter these days as a single guy, hoping to date someone again? Since I'm not on Tinder, the answer was no. I found the article to ring true about a few people I know who are a little younger than me. I have yet to see in my dating life where hook-up culture clashed with my hopes of meaningful conversations and monogamy. But the article did make me do a mental inventory of where I'm at now. Since my previous relationship ended last summer, I have been on exactly one date. I don't wear that as a badge of honor or an albatross. Simply, it's the reality that has happened. I've needed time to grieve over a lot of matters that happened last year. My hope has been to work on myself, trying to clean my side of the street

Eleven hours to get there, ten to get back, and one car battery later, I'm back from Nashville. My summer vacation came and went in a flash, but I came back home with a greater sense of clarity. Much more than I thought I would, actually. Instead of a day-by-day/hour-by-hour account, let me run down the highlights between Thursday night to Saturday night: ordered tacos and got a sandwich and hot wings instead, saw Michael Ian Black do standup and kill, watched Filmage again, went to four record stores, bought Jawbox's first album on vinyl, ate a couple of large plates of Indian vegetarian food, hit up a Guitar Center, got a new car battery, helped with setting up (and tearing down) a drum set, helped do merch inventory, visited Sun Studio again and went to Ardent Studio for the first time, and got home safely. The main attraction of seeing Braid and Beach Slang was the pinnacle of my whirlwind visit. Both bands put on excellent sets, mixing old and new material well. I sp

As summer draws to a close, I have my eyes set on another long roadtrip. Last year, I drove all the way to St. Louis, a town I had never visited before. This year, it's another town I've never visited: Nashville. I'd been close to Nashville before (Memphis, to be specific), but I've never been there. There are multiple reasons why I chose Nashville. My friends in Braid will kick off a short tour there when I'm in town. They aren't coming to Texas anytime soon, and I haven't seen them in a couple of years. I always enjoy spending time with them, and it makes a much more involved experience. It beats standing in a dark bar for a couple of hours, surrounded by people staring down at their shoes or their smartphones. (Full disclosure, I usually am one of those people at shows, too.) The drive to Nashville is not short, but it's not insanely long, either. Ten hours on the road is enough for me, and that's how long it will take for me to get there. I

The past couple of months have been very productive. Probably more than ever before, which has been good for some peace of mind. Between the regular work hours at my full-time job and the freelance writing for the Observer , there hasn't been much time to sit around and think. It's just been go, go, go and go to sleep at some point late at night. Some of the most recent articles that I most proud of had been in the works for a while. The story I did on the Cool Devices studio had been kicking around as an idea for almost two years. Writing about the owners of Red Pegasus Games and Comics was a spur-of-the-moment idea after the Supreme Court's ruling on same-sex marriage, but I knew one of its owners through job networking over a year ago. And writing about Rahim Quazi was a fun exercise in piecing together a story that gave me nightmares. After my piece on Rahim ran, I interviewed him for my podcast. Something he brought up in our hour-long conversation has frequen

Leading up to last week's Rush show at the American Airlines Center, there was a bittersweet taste in my mouth. I had a sense I'd enjoy the show as a longtime fan of the band, and I hoped to review and photograph it for the Observer . (I was lucky enough to do that and had a great time.) Why it was bittersweet was how prior to the show, I couldn't stop thinking about my friend Evan, a longtime Rush fan who passed away unexpectedly last October. I think about the guy a lot (not many days pass without thinking of him), and I wasn't sure how I could handle seeing one of his favorites without physically being with him. Obviously this was not appropriate to talk about in my review, as the average reader wants my review of the performance, setlist, crowd, and sound rather than a personal reflection. I was fine with supplying that for the Observer reader, but I wanted to share about the cathartic effect the show had on me. As I waited for the show to begin, I was in f

For most bands, no matter how much I love them, one night of seeing them live every few months (or years) is enough. I don't want too much of a good thing, but when it comes to face to face, seeing them three nights in a row is an exception. I was fortunate to attend all three nights of their Triple Crown shows, where they played Don't Turn Away on the first night, Big Choice on the second, and the self-titled record on the third. Even though I heard "Disconnected," "Not for Free," "I Used to Think," "Don't Turn Away," and "Dissension" three times, I did not mind. The amount of songs that were not repeated was greater than the ones that were. I previewed the series of shows for the Observer and I let my fandom/appreciation be fully on display. I acknowledged the elephant in the room, given the recent writings on the impact of nostalgia on a lot of shows coming through Dallas these days. And while I did recall certain

As a follow-up on my thoughts on the Bomb Factory reopening, I wrote a lot of words about the dangers of investing too much time to nostalgia. Basically, the past was great, but it wasn't all great. So let's look forward to what's next. And I quoted Billy Joel.

I was asked to pen a few words about the return of Deep Ellum's Bomb Factory for the Observer . I never went to it when it was originally open. I was living in Houston at the time and it had been closed for a few years when I moved to the DFW area. I went to Deep Ellum Live, which was next door, plenty of times and saw many great shows, from Spiritualized to MxPx. Now it looks like the Bomb Factory will bring in a lot of great bands, filling a void that's been in the area for many years. You can read my thoughts on it here .

A few new stories to share that I have recently written. I followed up with  Dallas-based filmmaker Jeremy Snead, who made an excellent documentary called Video Games: The Movie . From talking about the kinds of reactions to his film to his upcoming series on video games, we had a great talk. Over the weekend, I had to be in Houston for my father's 70th birthday party. People I had not seen since 2002 would be there, and I really wanted to go. Luckily I escaped Dallas before the snow and ice shut down the city. While I was down there, I decided to  review  the Cursive/Beach Slang/Megafauna show at Fitzgerald's for the Houston Press . I had a great time watching Cursive for the sixth time and the openers for the first time. Beach Slang is all kinds of incredible, and I was happy to see them as they are on the rise.

There are times when reading about music bums me out. Bummed to the point where I think the writers only want to hear free jazz while being stoned and/or drunk, huddled alone, spacing out in a dilapidated home. I enjoy reading perspectives from people who take the time and effort to investigate why a certain record or an entire catalog connects with people. (When I mean "people," I mean people who actually identify with the music and they carry that connection for the rest of their lives.) But if someone is going to continually bad-mouth a popular act, I have to wonder why this person is going on and on about it. "Okay, it's not for you," I think to myself. (I say this knowing full well of how much I despised a popular form of emo ten years ago and wrote a lot about it on this here blog.) If I were to only abide by music critics, especially those from the 70s and 80s, and fear verbal stoning for disagreeing with them, I should not speak up. Especially wh

Hosting a podcast has been something I've thought about for years. My uncle Keith suggested it about seven or eight years ago, but I didn't really know where to start or how I could maintain one. As the years passed, I kept finding new podcasts. When friends of mine started doing their own shows, the thought of doing one kept coming up in my head. Only in the past couple of years, I've recognized what I want to hear in a podcast and what I don't want to hear. I want to hear an engaging conversation between two people in the same room, not on a cell phone connection. I want the people to be in a quiet room, not frequently interrupted by dogs barking. And, I want to hear something that isn't too inside baseball, meaning too niche-oriented that you can't understand what the hell the people are talking about. With Santa Claus bringing me a laptop, two microphones, a quad box, and ProTools, I decided 2015 would be the year I did my own show. Two episodes in

New year, new stories to tell. I've been sitting on this story for a while, but I'm now clear to share it. Mineral is one of the most important bands in the evolution of post-hardcore/emo. Without them, the Promise Ring, Sense Field, Jimmy Eat World, Texas is the Reason, and Braid, you'd probably not know what emo is today. I decided to not flesh out the band's story in chapter form in Post . There was no doubt this band was influential, but their story arc was a little too similar to Texas is the Reason's and the Promise Ring's. I didn't want to wear my readers down with story after story with the exact same arc: Band gets buzzed about, tours a lot, puts out a great record, and breaks up before they sign with a major label. Getting the chance to interview Chris Simpson about the Mineral reunion, I wanted to talk about how the tour has gone, instead of what led to it. That story has already been told many times, so I did the post-script, Now What? s