My life is ridiculously cool right now. I get to shoot bands and shows and parties and all sorts of other crazy stuff while being surrounded by friends and music and pretty girls and fun. I maintain a sort of uncorruptability to my personal choices (it is insane how many people out there have wanted to get/see me drunk but I still stand by my personal choice not to touch the stuff) and I pretty much always try to be a kind, caring, sharing person. To be happy and to make other people happy with what I do is literally the only thing I want in life, and I'm insanely lucky in that I've found out what makes that goal a reality.
It's a sort of wonderful rut I've dug myself into, but a rut can wear itself down to nothing if it is overrun. Do I expect myself to walk away from a life so deeply ingrained in the Twin Cities music scene? I think not. It's still getting exponentially more interesting as time goes on, and good thing too.
But I want to take it to the next level. I want to rid myself of the chains that keep me from being "on top". Not for fame, or money, or anything like that. Just so I can say someday that I did exactly what I wanted to do with my life. What that is could completely change over time, though probably only in that it gets bigger, grander, more ambitious.
Every day I think about music, and bands, and cool people, and how I find myself in the middle of a perfect storm that should be a far bigger deal than it is. Personal biases aside, I think I know what the hell I'm talking about when I say that the music I find myself following most often is the best in town, bar none. Eat your heart out Twin Cities folkies, because rock and/or roll can never die.
I don't question my ability to do what I do because I'm confident enough to say I do it better and with more passion than anyone else here right now. It has nothing to do with quality or quantity; it has everything to do with the fact that I probably would cease to exist otherwise. I exist because everything that has ever happened in the past has created a present that must continue towards the future.
I remember having my mind completely blown the fuck out by the movie Almost Famous in about January 2008 when I saw it for the first time. It was almost too relevant, too eerily similar to the life I was living and was expecting in the near future. I just watched it for the second time earlier, and while it was still pretty freaky, it didn't have that same sort of total freakout first-time effect. But I picked up on new things, new understandings of my life and the people that surround me.
I ramble on and on and on and on with no real direction, delete sentences that don't make sense, rearrange paragraphs to try to create something that seems logical, try to keep this entry to a digestible size. You probably won't read all of this, and if you do, you probably won't get all of it anyway. But that's fine, because someone once said something along the lines of "Only one person needs to get something for it to make sense." I think he blew his fucking brains out from getting too famous though...
So much of the pressure in life is self-induced. I'm in a position where I could almost take over the world if I knew what the hell I was doing. Aren't they supposed to teach you life skills in school? If they did I sure didn't pay attention, and if they didn't then how the hell did everyone else figure it out? I'm so scatter-brained at times, it keeps my wheels spinning at 100 mph while never reaching the finish line.
I question the means to making the life I want a reality.
Do I really want to have to follow the same path as everyone else?
I feel like my mind is both my greatest asset and my biggest downfall.
It's bizarre how I feel like I'm always getting closer to one of my life's current goals yet it always stays a few feet out of reach, both literally and figuratively.
Does being a social nomad make me incredibly adaptable or incredibly outcast?
There's only so much that can be done with bands in one pair of cities, though I will probably never leave here permanently.
I don't want The American Dream, nor do I really know what it is or if it exists. I want my dream. If I have to be completely stubborn about one thing it's that I will not fail at succeeding. But does not failing also equal success? And who's to say that success even equals the happiness which I have already found?
It's all relative to what you think of you, me, we, us, them, everything, and everyone. Life is literally a relative experience. You are literally the center of the universe... but only to yourself. Your brain is the star that all planets orbit about. You will find personal relevance in literally anything if the timing is right.
Certain songs I've been enjoying for most (or maybe just a few months) of my life are now striking me in ways I could have never imagined because they're hitting me at a time where they're relevant. Lyrics are the primary form obviously, but when was the last time a melody or a rhythm pattern actually hit you in the gut and made you think, "Has someone been retroactively reading my mind?"
I'm William Miller. I'm not William Miller.
I am the everyman. I want nothing more than to be myself.
Is it possible to be two completely opposite things at the same time? I think so. Perhaps even more than you think.
This stream of consciousness brain dumping is brought to you by Mike Minehart at his most electrified hour, approximately 2-3 AM.
I have no ability to write without feeling incredibly awkward about it, even if I care and/or know what I'm talking about. Who's to say that what I say even matters?
I find that me writing vaguely makes things more personal and easy to understand because relevance is easier to derive for anyone. Not that I can't go into some juicy details, it's just that I spew so much specific stuff from my mind elsewhere that this random late-night rambling could not be satisfied with placing itself in one definitive category.
I think I was telling a story earlier but I completely derailed myself. I don't want to go back and change any of it because it's so raw and organic and I like having my grammar keep going on and on and on and on with run on sentences because it amuses me for reasons I don't know why.
Selective perfectionism is pretty much where it's at when it comes to something you're really nitpicky about but don't have the time to do the whole way through.
My desktop is ridiculously overloaded with photo folders.
If money were not such a powerful religion I would already have achieved my penultimate goal in life.
I like the fact that I lost 25 lbs. and got a fairly cool new look, but I don't like waiting for my day to arrive when I'm more than good enough for it to have been years in the past. Maybe that's a good thing though. Or maybe you don't know what the heck I'm talking about again. That's good though. I don't like advertising certain facts about myself unless it would seem to be beneficial in changing things for the better.
My life is ridiculously cool right now. My mind is not cooperating. My body is right where I want it to be. Something else is not. What, I both do and do not know at the same time.
I want to keep going but this blog has just about run out of relevance for me. Maybe it'll be relative again later...
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
A little 4 AM wonderment on the 4th
The "Captain Obvious" in me has already told you what you might already know about memories. But let's try (but probably fail) to get away from constant generalizing for a moment. Also, let's trade shoes. You'll need mine for this next paragraph.
What happens when you decide to break away from your usual pattern of capturing shows on a weekend night and decide to go out to the middle of nowhere and party at a lake cabin on the 4th of July? Surely some long-living memories should come out of it. They just might not be the ones you were hoping or planning for.
That's not to say I had any expectations going into a trip up to a buddy's cabin on the 4th. It's just that even though my life has followed a steady upward trend, I still feel completely naïve at times. Perhaps it's a lingering effect of my less-fulfilling past, a sense of things I have not accomplished, or my hopeful obliviousness to the future.
Long story short, I went to a party at a cabin on Sugar Lake, about 70 miles out of the cities. Made a few new friends, had a good time, watched some fireworks while on a boat, felt out of place on occasion, but still enjoyed myself for the most part. Almost a pretty cookie-cutter experience on the surface, but it's what lies beneath that makes our memories (in fact, all of us as people) unique and interesting.
My over-thinking mind finally got a chance to just let loose around 2 AM though. By then, everyone had basically headed in for the night, while I remained ever-awake and restless. (I was up till 5 AM at another party the night before, hence the need to do something.)
With no one left to talk to, I walked out to the end of the dock and sat down on the bench, gazing across the water at the few specks of campfire light that still dotted the edge of the lake. A boat would occasionally rev in the distance, and one of the passer-by crafts proudly blasted the aforementioned "I'm on a Boat" song as it tore around the lake in the wee hours of July 5th.
(This is from the daytime, but it's a view of straight across the lake from the bench, which faces west.)
But for the most part, it was a calm, undisturbed moment for me to sit and ponder in. I looked to my left and saw the (almost) full moon shining in its glory, and remarked at how amazing it was to think that it could make the night seem bright, yet serene. To my slight-right was the northwest, and beyond the trees I saw the faint glow of what was probably St. Cloud far off in the distance. Above it was the Big Dipper, and when the water was completely calm you could actually see it reflected in the lake as well.
I was all alone at the lake, but strangely I knew that someone else was watching all of this with me too. I texted a friend who I was reminded of and I knew had to be experiencing the same thing I was at that moment of serenity.
I stared at the lake until I grew chilly, then grabbed a jacket and went back out to the bench. After some more gazing around the lake I decided to lay down and stare straight up at the stars, something I don't think I had really done in years.
A million thoughts continued to flow through my mind as the moon began to yellow and finally disappeared below the trees around 3:45 AM, leaving nothing but the stars to light the night momentarily. And for a moment, for the first time since I don't remember when, everything seemed to stop.
Alone, with nothing but the stars. This... was... peace. A fleeting feeling, but one that shouldn't have to happen but once in a great while.
I sat back up and pondered what to do next. There was no reason for me to go to sleep, but I didn't want to sit around for another 5 hours until people started waking up. So I decided to leave the lake at 4:30 AM and drive back to the cities, with no destination in mind.
Whenever I make an extended trip, I always pop in an album or two to accompany the journey. On a whim, I chose to start with the new album from The Alarmists, The Overhead Left. Instantly my mind was blown (what I like to call a "mindfuck", in that it fucks with your mind) by the immediate relevance of the opening lines on "Flutter and Fly".
A summer day, but you feel cold... cold
Another day that you grow old... old
And I forget, the things I'm told...
Well you know time will take it's toll...
So simple, yet a near-verbatim summary of a lot of what I was experiencing on that dock only minutes before. Once I reached the 694/494 loop via I-94 at about 5:15 AM, I chose to go down the less-traveled (for me) 494 and popped in Solid Gold's Bodies of Water. For some reason, it made perfect sense to listen to it at the crack of dawn, and I jumped off 494 to MN 55, cutting east towards downtown Minneapolis.
The morning mist was pretty cool on parts of I-94 & 494, but once I got into Golden Valley on MN 55 it really started to make me geek out at how amazing it was going down misty roads I had never been on, seeing things like the downtown skyline from a new perspective, and just being awake with literally no one else on the roads at this beautiful hour.
I meandered around downtown for a while, making a point of it to pass by The Music Box Theatre on 14th and Nicollet where exciting things may be happening soon (I had never knowingly seen it before), and eventually decided to cut over to the U of M campus. It was time for a new album when I got there, so I put the self-titled album from This World Fair.
Another mindfuck hit me with the This is not my destination / It's only where I'm used to standing line that opens the first track, "Can't Stop Falling". I went to the U for the better part of 5 years, and while it did help make me who I am today, it's definitely not something I foresee being really that important to my future. It's just that I still can't seem to get away from it either...
I decided to head towards St. Paul, and took University Avenue the whole way from campus all the way past I-35E. I was intrigued by all that I saw on the parts of University that I don't frequent east of the Midway area, plus the fact that it runs right behind the State Capitol is pretty sweet too. I continued east, deciding that it would be cool to check out different parts of roads that I knew but hadn't seen beyond certain points.
By this point, I was nearing the end of the album. The final track of TWF's self-titled album, "Count To Ten", includes a powerful repeating line during the outro:
This isn't what we wanted
We're back to where we started
This particular line gave me chills down my spine one time while driving back the day after the Cake/Ari Herstand show at Concordia College in Moorhead back in April 2007. But at about 6:30 AM on this trip, I found myself passing by the house of a close friend's place, which was where I had started my day on the 4th, literally right as the line kicked in. Total mindfuck once again.
I was amazed to actually find someone still awake at the place this early the day after the 4th of July, and hung out for a bit before leaving to drive back to Albert Lea. My wide-eyed curiosity then finally began to fade into sleep-deprivation, which is definitely not a good thing when you've still got over an hour left to go on a drive. Slammed a Dr. Pepper at a rest stop and finally made it back home around 9:30 AM, right in time to crash until about 5 PM. Though I had only been awake for about 21 hours, it felt like I had experienced twice that between all the driving around and time spent at the cabin.
Life is about making memories that last until better ones come along. And in this case, I expect this one to last for quite a while...
What happens when you decide to break away from your usual pattern of capturing shows on a weekend night and decide to go out to the middle of nowhere and party at a lake cabin on the 4th of July? Surely some long-living memories should come out of it. They just might not be the ones you were hoping or planning for.
That's not to say I had any expectations going into a trip up to a buddy's cabin on the 4th. It's just that even though my life has followed a steady upward trend, I still feel completely naïve at times. Perhaps it's a lingering effect of my less-fulfilling past, a sense of things I have not accomplished, or my hopeful obliviousness to the future.
Long story short, I went to a party at a cabin on Sugar Lake, about 70 miles out of the cities. Made a few new friends, had a good time, watched some fireworks while on a boat, felt out of place on occasion, but still enjoyed myself for the most part. Almost a pretty cookie-cutter experience on the surface, but it's what lies beneath that makes our memories (in fact, all of us as people) unique and interesting.
My over-thinking mind finally got a chance to just let loose around 2 AM though. By then, everyone had basically headed in for the night, while I remained ever-awake and restless. (I was up till 5 AM at another party the night before, hence the need to do something.)
With no one left to talk to, I walked out to the end of the dock and sat down on the bench, gazing across the water at the few specks of campfire light that still dotted the edge of the lake. A boat would occasionally rev in the distance, and one of the passer-by crafts proudly blasted the aforementioned "I'm on a Boat" song as it tore around the lake in the wee hours of July 5th.
(This is from the daytime, but it's a view of straight across the lake from the bench, which faces west.)
But for the most part, it was a calm, undisturbed moment for me to sit and ponder in. I looked to my left and saw the (almost) full moon shining in its glory, and remarked at how amazing it was to think that it could make the night seem bright, yet serene. To my slight-right was the northwest, and beyond the trees I saw the faint glow of what was probably St. Cloud far off in the distance. Above it was the Big Dipper, and when the water was completely calm you could actually see it reflected in the lake as well.
I was all alone at the lake, but strangely I knew that someone else was watching all of this with me too. I texted a friend who I was reminded of and I knew had to be experiencing the same thing I was at that moment of serenity.
I stared at the lake until I grew chilly, then grabbed a jacket and went back out to the bench. After some more gazing around the lake I decided to lay down and stare straight up at the stars, something I don't think I had really done in years.
A million thoughts continued to flow through my mind as the moon began to yellow and finally disappeared below the trees around 3:45 AM, leaving nothing but the stars to light the night momentarily. And for a moment, for the first time since I don't remember when, everything seemed to stop.
Alone, with nothing but the stars. This... was... peace. A fleeting feeling, but one that shouldn't have to happen but once in a great while.
I sat back up and pondered what to do next. There was no reason for me to go to sleep, but I didn't want to sit around for another 5 hours until people started waking up. So I decided to leave the lake at 4:30 AM and drive back to the cities, with no destination in mind.
Whenever I make an extended trip, I always pop in an album or two to accompany the journey. On a whim, I chose to start with the new album from The Alarmists, The Overhead Left. Instantly my mind was blown (what I like to call a "mindfuck", in that it fucks with your mind) by the immediate relevance of the opening lines on "Flutter and Fly".
A summer day, but you feel cold... cold
Another day that you grow old... old
And I forget, the things I'm told...
Well you know time will take it's toll...
So simple, yet a near-verbatim summary of a lot of what I was experiencing on that dock only minutes before. Once I reached the 694/494 loop via I-94 at about 5:15 AM, I chose to go down the less-traveled (for me) 494 and popped in Solid Gold's Bodies of Water. For some reason, it made perfect sense to listen to it at the crack of dawn, and I jumped off 494 to MN 55, cutting east towards downtown Minneapolis.
The morning mist was pretty cool on parts of I-94 & 494, but once I got into Golden Valley on MN 55 it really started to make me geek out at how amazing it was going down misty roads I had never been on, seeing things like the downtown skyline from a new perspective, and just being awake with literally no one else on the roads at this beautiful hour.
I meandered around downtown for a while, making a point of it to pass by The Music Box Theatre on 14th and Nicollet where exciting things may be happening soon (I had never knowingly seen it before), and eventually decided to cut over to the U of M campus. It was time for a new album when I got there, so I put the self-titled album from This World Fair.
Another mindfuck hit me with the This is not my destination / It's only where I'm used to standing line that opens the first track, "Can't Stop Falling". I went to the U for the better part of 5 years, and while it did help make me who I am today, it's definitely not something I foresee being really that important to my future. It's just that I still can't seem to get away from it either...
I decided to head towards St. Paul, and took University Avenue the whole way from campus all the way past I-35E. I was intrigued by all that I saw on the parts of University that I don't frequent east of the Midway area, plus the fact that it runs right behind the State Capitol is pretty sweet too. I continued east, deciding that it would be cool to check out different parts of roads that I knew but hadn't seen beyond certain points.
By this point, I was nearing the end of the album. The final track of TWF's self-titled album, "Count To Ten", includes a powerful repeating line during the outro:
This isn't what we wanted
We're back to where we started
This particular line gave me chills down my spine one time while driving back the day after the Cake/Ari Herstand show at Concordia College in Moorhead back in April 2007. But at about 6:30 AM on this trip, I found myself passing by the house of a close friend's place, which was where I had started my day on the 4th, literally right as the line kicked in. Total mindfuck once again.
I was amazed to actually find someone still awake at the place this early the day after the 4th of July, and hung out for a bit before leaving to drive back to Albert Lea. My wide-eyed curiosity then finally began to fade into sleep-deprivation, which is definitely not a good thing when you've still got over an hour left to go on a drive. Slammed a Dr. Pepper at a rest stop and finally made it back home around 9:30 AM, right in time to crash until about 5 PM. Though I had only been awake for about 21 hours, it felt like I had experienced twice that between all the driving around and time spent at the cabin.
Life is about making memories that last until better ones come along. And in this case, I expect this one to last for quite a while...
Life is about making memories that last until better ones come along.
I'm struck by this strange thought that I just had, and I feel inspired to poke around the inside of my head (via blog post) until something more tangible comes out.
For one, memories are fleeting. We find it harder and harder to remember things the further into the past they occur. The more unique, unexpected, or profound the memory is, the stronger we retain the ability to remember it. And while technology gives us the ability to add tangibility to our memories (I'm a photographer, guess what a lot of my memories are made of?), it's not like we can always treat these things as eternal.
In this regard, I am quite grateful. My life has followed a fairly consistent and steadily-increasing level of "happiness" for years, so much so that I have a difficult time remembering much of anything about high school and beforehand. That's how much more "fun" life has been for me these past few years.
I mean c'mon, how could you not have fun when your passion involves spending a lot of time with a diverse cast of characters in a realm of creative bliss? That's what photographing the music scene is like for me. Sure I don't make any money at it (at least not yet), but I'll be damned if it isn't what I want to do for a long, long time.
I've made so many incredible memories through shooting music and being at shows, but as time goes on I find that most of my older photos just don't carry the same weight they used to. There will always be a few photos that never die, but who's to say that I won't someday capture something that tops even the epic-ness of that or other photos I tout as amazing?
Perhaps that is what drives me to always be at shows, looking to outdo even my own best work. But this is the kind of mentality that has killed many a person (Michael Jackson comes to mind in a sense) when really all I want in life is to be happy and make other people happy with what I do.
If it were possible to truly separate the need for constant self-improvement from happiness, perhaps we'd all be living as Buddhist monks. But this is where the memory factor comes in. As time goes on, that which is "now" becomes then. "Then" becomes older, less tangible, further alienated from the life we live in the "new" now, even if our level of contentment remains. We inevitably either long for a better "now" or for it to be more like "then". (Is this where the liberal/conservative line separates?)
Truly, competition is the enemy of contentment. Time itself has become a competition of sorts. It's like we're asked to play a game... it's called "Fulfill all of your ever-changing dreams as fast as you can before you die." Has anyone ever won? Perhaps, but were we granted immorality we'd inevitably raise the bar into infinity over the course of eternity.
On the bright side, raising the bar is largely a sign of progress. And as our standards rise, that which falls by the wayside doesn't remain as ever-present in our memory. But we also find ourselves locked into a need to reach that next level, which only begins the cycle anew.
I'm going to abruptly cut off this blog entry and begin working on a relevant follow-up regarding the 4th of July. Why? Because if I keep going on this one you're never going to be able to read it all. Shame on me for writing novels I suppose, but those who truly know me know I always have a lot on my mind. I just want to make it easier for you (and I) to digest...
For one, memories are fleeting. We find it harder and harder to remember things the further into the past they occur. The more unique, unexpected, or profound the memory is, the stronger we retain the ability to remember it. And while technology gives us the ability to add tangibility to our memories (I'm a photographer, guess what a lot of my memories are made of?), it's not like we can always treat these things as eternal.
In this regard, I am quite grateful. My life has followed a fairly consistent and steadily-increasing level of "happiness" for years, so much so that I have a difficult time remembering much of anything about high school and beforehand. That's how much more "fun" life has been for me these past few years.
I mean c'mon, how could you not have fun when your passion involves spending a lot of time with a diverse cast of characters in a realm of creative bliss? That's what photographing the music scene is like for me. Sure I don't make any money at it (at least not yet), but I'll be damned if it isn't what I want to do for a long, long time.
I've made so many incredible memories through shooting music and being at shows, but as time goes on I find that most of my older photos just don't carry the same weight they used to. There will always be a few photos that never die, but who's to say that I won't someday capture something that tops even the epic-ness of that or other photos I tout as amazing?
Perhaps that is what drives me to always be at shows, looking to outdo even my own best work. But this is the kind of mentality that has killed many a person (Michael Jackson comes to mind in a sense) when really all I want in life is to be happy and make other people happy with what I do.
If it were possible to truly separate the need for constant self-improvement from happiness, perhaps we'd all be living as Buddhist monks. But this is where the memory factor comes in. As time goes on, that which is "now" becomes then. "Then" becomes older, less tangible, further alienated from the life we live in the "new" now, even if our level of contentment remains. We inevitably either long for a better "now" or for it to be more like "then". (Is this where the liberal/conservative line separates?)
Truly, competition is the enemy of contentment. Time itself has become a competition of sorts. It's like we're asked to play a game... it's called "Fulfill all of your ever-changing dreams as fast as you can before you die." Has anyone ever won? Perhaps, but were we granted immorality we'd inevitably raise the bar into infinity over the course of eternity.
On the bright side, raising the bar is largely a sign of progress. And as our standards rise, that which falls by the wayside doesn't remain as ever-present in our memory. But we also find ourselves locked into a need to reach that next level, which only begins the cycle anew.
I'm going to abruptly cut off this blog entry and begin working on a relevant follow-up regarding the 4th of July. Why? Because if I keep going on this one you're never going to be able to read it all. Shame on me for writing novels I suppose, but those who truly know me know I always have a lot on my mind. I just want to make it easier for you (and I) to digest...
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The 3-year anniversary of the most rock 'n' roll thing I have witnessed thus far
Ah, old memories and the lanes which they create. Let us take a walk (or rather, blog) down said memory lane. (I will be pulling out some especially old photography in this, so please bear with me...)
It happened on a Friday night all the way back in the summer of '06. Though it would be another 8 months before I finally purchased my first "real" SLR camera, I was still snap snap snapping away at shows with my comparably crappy little Olympus 8 megapixel point-and-shoot camera.
I found myself at The Varsity on June 9th, 2006 for The Alarmists debut EP release show for A Detail of Soldiers. I had only seen the band once before (at The Varsity about a month prior when they played with This World Fair at The TV Sound CD release show also at The Varsity) but I already knew I had found something special in them.
Supporting The Alarmists at their debut EP release was Low Lustre, a band that would soon move to New York, and White Light Riot, their BBFF's (best band friends forever). WLR had first caught my ear and my eye two months earlier when they played with TWF at some fashion show at Myth Nightclub, so they too were new on my list of bands worth checking out more often.
(Side note: That first encounter with WLR in April 2006 involved frontman Mike Schwandt telling me they sounded kinda like Fall Out Boy. Bullcrap. They're way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way wayyyyyyyyyyy better and sound nothing like them in my opinion, in that WLR is actually good.)
Getting back on track, I witnessed something so incredible at The Varsity that night that it may never be repeated the same way without someone intentionally doing it themselves. But I don't think anyone is really crazy enough to tempt fate in such a way that they also cheat death itself...
I'm speaking, of course, of what Mike Schwandt from White Light Riot did during about the 3rd song of their set. During the solo, the band rocked out all over the stage, with Mike swerving back and forth between guitarist Joe Christenson and bassist Dan Larsen on either side of him with drummer Mark Schwandt keeping it all together in-time in the background.
At one point, Mike did some kind of spinning swing with his guitar, thrusting it upwards as he was leaning forwards and inadvertently whacking himself in the forehead with the head of his guitar. But he didn't go down or even really miss a beat. I'm told that when he stumbled over towards Dan, Mike said something along the lines of "Am I alright?" before heading back towards to the mic at the end of the solo.
But when Mike turned around to finally face the crowd and get back on the mic though, I heard some in the crowd let out a collective "Gasp!" in utter shock of what they were seeing.
(Click image for bigger version)
Mike was gushing a huge stream of blood from right above his eye! Luckily for me, I was in the right place at the right time with the flash turned on, which resulted me in capturing that photo. The band finished the song and then briefly stopped their set as a few people from The Varsity came around the stage with towels and began tending to the self-wounded WLR frontman.
Nobody knew if WLR would be able to keep playing with how incredible the injury was to Mike. But in true rock 'n' roll fashion, the band carried on and finished their set with Mike continuing to bleed all over himself. Sure he'd towel off after songs, but the wound would quickly re-grow into another big stream of blood that would run down the side of his face. Joe Kuefler from The Alarmists even made a cameo on stage on tambourine, which was later reciprocated by Mark from WLR during the headlining set.
Mike actually had to go to the hospital and get stitches after WLR's set. He missed the headlining performance from The Alarmists (which proved to be even more incredible if that was even possible at this point) but not the afterparty, which was probably the stuff of legend as well. I wasn't there, but then again, I (and 3/4 of WLR) wasn't even 21 at the time. Amazing to think that that's how long ago it was now...
So yes, that is what happened 3 years ago on this very day. Mike's clumsiness and penchant for self-injury created one of the most insanely awesome moments I've witnessed thus far. And even though WLR is not on the bill for the latest CD release show by The Alarmists for The Overhead Left this Friday at The Varsity, you can bet your bottom dollar that the band will be there. Heck, you're already guaranteed to see at least one member of WLR anyway, cause Mark is also drumming for The Alarmists now as well.
But know this: On what is only a few days after the 3-year anniversary of that memorable moment in Minneapolis rock history, The Alarmists will bring it all full-circle for their second full-length release. Between the band bringing original keyboardist Joe Kuefler back into the mix and playing at my favorite venue, I'd say this show will inevitably be one of the biggest and best of the year for the local scene. So be there, and be ready to rock. You know I will be.
The Alarmists CD Release Show for The Overhead Left
Friday, June 12th at The Varsity Theater
With The 757's, The Championship, and Coach Said Not To
8 PM doors, $8 advance/$10 at the door, 21+
It happened on a Friday night all the way back in the summer of '06. Though it would be another 8 months before I finally purchased my first "real" SLR camera, I was still snap snap snapping away at shows with my comparably crappy little Olympus 8 megapixel point-and-shoot camera.
I found myself at The Varsity on June 9th, 2006 for The Alarmists debut EP release show for A Detail of Soldiers. I had only seen the band once before (at The Varsity about a month prior when they played with This World Fair at The TV Sound CD release show also at The Varsity) but I already knew I had found something special in them.
Supporting The Alarmists at their debut EP release was Low Lustre, a band that would soon move to New York, and White Light Riot, their BBFF's (best band friends forever). WLR had first caught my ear and my eye two months earlier when they played with TWF at some fashion show at Myth Nightclub, so they too were new on my list of bands worth checking out more often.
(Side note: That first encounter with WLR in April 2006 involved frontman Mike Schwandt telling me they sounded kinda like Fall Out Boy. Bullcrap. They're way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way way wayyyyyyyyyyy better and sound nothing like them in my opinion, in that WLR is actually good.)
Getting back on track, I witnessed something so incredible at The Varsity that night that it may never be repeated the same way without someone intentionally doing it themselves. But I don't think anyone is really crazy enough to tempt fate in such a way that they also cheat death itself...
I'm speaking, of course, of what Mike Schwandt from White Light Riot did during about the 3rd song of their set. During the solo, the band rocked out all over the stage, with Mike swerving back and forth between guitarist Joe Christenson and bassist Dan Larsen on either side of him with drummer Mark Schwandt keeping it all together in-time in the background.
At one point, Mike did some kind of spinning swing with his guitar, thrusting it upwards as he was leaning forwards and inadvertently whacking himself in the forehead with the head of his guitar. But he didn't go down or even really miss a beat. I'm told that when he stumbled over towards Dan, Mike said something along the lines of "Am I alright?" before heading back towards to the mic at the end of the solo.
But when Mike turned around to finally face the crowd and get back on the mic though, I heard some in the crowd let out a collective "Gasp!" in utter shock of what they were seeing.
(Click image for bigger version)
Mike was gushing a huge stream of blood from right above his eye! Luckily for me, I was in the right place at the right time with the flash turned on, which resulted me in capturing that photo. The band finished the song and then briefly stopped their set as a few people from The Varsity came around the stage with towels and began tending to the self-wounded WLR frontman.
Nobody knew if WLR would be able to keep playing with how incredible the injury was to Mike. But in true rock 'n' roll fashion, the band carried on and finished their set with Mike continuing to bleed all over himself. Sure he'd towel off after songs, but the wound would quickly re-grow into another big stream of blood that would run down the side of his face. Joe Kuefler from The Alarmists even made a cameo on stage on tambourine, which was later reciprocated by Mark from WLR during the headlining set.
Mike actually had to go to the hospital and get stitches after WLR's set. He missed the headlining performance from The Alarmists (which proved to be even more incredible if that was even possible at this point) but not the afterparty, which was probably the stuff of legend as well. I wasn't there, but then again, I (and 3/4 of WLR) wasn't even 21 at the time. Amazing to think that that's how long ago it was now...
So yes, that is what happened 3 years ago on this very day. Mike's clumsiness and penchant for self-injury created one of the most insanely awesome moments I've witnessed thus far. And even though WLR is not on the bill for the latest CD release show by The Alarmists for The Overhead Left this Friday at The Varsity, you can bet your bottom dollar that the band will be there. Heck, you're already guaranteed to see at least one member of WLR anyway, cause Mark is also drumming for The Alarmists now as well.
But know this: On what is only a few days after the 3-year anniversary of that memorable moment in Minneapolis rock history, The Alarmists will bring it all full-circle for their second full-length release. Between the band bringing original keyboardist Joe Kuefler back into the mix and playing at my favorite venue, I'd say this show will inevitably be one of the biggest and best of the year for the local scene. So be there, and be ready to rock. You know I will be.
The Alarmists CD Release Show for The Overhead Left
Friday, June 12th at The Varsity Theater
With The 757's, The Championship, and Coach Said Not To
8 PM doors, $8 advance/$10 at the door, 21+
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Coming eventually: The Mike Minehart: Rock Photographer US Tour
Preemptive summary for those who don't like reading a lot:
I want to put together a photography "tour" from MN to Los Angeles and back. My goal is to shoot shows, bands, and any other interested persons in many new locations en route to a brief stay in LA before returning home and shooting some more while on the way back.
I wouldn't mind discovering some sweet new music while on the road, and I think great out-of-town bands trading shows with awesome Minneapolis bands that I know would be a pretty nice thing to see more of. Plus you'd obviously be getting some great photos from one of the best concert photographers in the Twin Cities.
So if you live anywhere west of the Mississippi River or know any bands or persons who may be interested in hiring me for around the cost of gas, food, and a place for me to crash in your town, I'm down for it if it all links up into a tour!
----------
And now, story time for those of you who like to read:
I spent much of my Sunday during Memorial Day weekend at a grad party for Pony from The Melismatics. She had just finished up school for massage therapy, and there were plenty of her family and friends over at the relatively chill but enjoyable party.
In the evening, Charles and Christy from Ouija Radio arrived, and eventually Christy and I struck up a conversation about her time spent with The Von Bondies on their recent European tour. She joined the band a little over a year ago as a full-time member and they had just recently released their new album, so The Von Bondies have been out pushing hard with touring and such.
There were many highs and lows for The Von Bondies on the month-long European tour, one that left the band exhausted from a constant schedule of appearances and shows with little to no sleep. But one of the things that really struck me was how Christy approached her occasional free time after shows and during visits to cities in Europe.
Christy made a point of it to have the locals guide her to some of the best local shows around town, and then soaked in all of the atmosphere of the scene that she could. Basically, she discovered some great bands that may have otherwise never crossed paths with her or The Von Bondies.
It may not seem like that complicated of an idea, but making a point of it to get out and see bands is what got me to where I am today. In 3 1/2+ years of capturing the Minneapolis/St. Paul music scene, I have shot hundreds of bands and developed a portfolio the likes of which makes me probably one of the best concert photographers around town. And I've discovered a plethora of great Twin Cities bands and other people I'm proud to call friends of mine.
But that's just here in the Twin Cities. Though I constantly tout our local music scene and its wide array of awesome bands, Christy made me realize that there's probably hundreds of great local bands scattered throughout dozens of music scenes waiting to be discovered by people outside of their town.
I have seen my fair share of smaller out-of-town acts, but that's usually because they're playing here in the Twin Cities. What about the bands who are still floating under the radar and haven't gone more than 100 (or even 10) miles beyond their city limits yet? I'm almost wondering if those are actually the really good rock and roll acts too, because — for example — even though probably a majority of the bands I've seen from Chicago were pretty lame, all of them were touring acts. So there's clearly potential to find untapped, unknown bands in new places.
You might ask, "Why not just read some stuff online and learn about music that way?" Because that's not how I approach discovering new music. I'm a see-it-to-believe-it kind of guy, and more often than not I like to be completely oblivious to a band's sound and style before I see them for the first time so I can get a "pure" first exposure. If you have a bad night, tough luck, but you should know that the best bands can still make their off nights look and sound pretty damn good.
This is the photographer in me speaking, but I want overt emotion, excitement, and awesomeness in any band I see. Subtlety and a reserved attitude is fine in small doses, but if you're putting me to sleep by your third song you're probably not the right band for me to begin with. That's not to say that bands like that are bad, but if you know my top 16 favorite Twin Cities acts (in alphabetical order)...
Ari Herstand
Catchpenny
Charlz Newman
Lynhurst
MC/VL
ReadyGoes
Roster McCabe
Sick of Sarah
So It Goes
The Alarmists
The Debut
The Invincible Kids
The Melismatics
The Wannabe Hasbeens
This World Fair
White Light Riot
...you'll realize that they all know how to completely rock your face off when necessary. Awesome bands make for awesome photography, and when the music and lighting is good, I'll shoot at a break-neck pace all night.
Anyways, what I'm getting at here is, I want to see and shoot some new music. New faces in new places. I want a taste of the local music scenes elsewhere so that I can bring that knowledge back to Minneapolis and spread it around. I want to find bands that might be perfect to have trade shows with a band like The Debut or ReadyGoes, for example. And I want to capture some kickass photography in great out-of-town local venues that I've never even heard of.
Money's not my motivation with this, cause all I'd need to get from doing this is traveling money and a place to crash at to cover my costs. Rather, I want to create mutual benefits in that I'll gain exposure in your town and vice versa. After all, if great bands can tour, then why not a great photographer?
My route would ideally follow a logical path from MN to LA and back. Whether it involves hitting up the Pacific northwest, heading down into the southern states, or just cutting straight through the Plains and the Rockies, I'm fine with taking any reasonable path in or out. Heck, if I really want to make my dad jealous, the route to LA could involve a significant amount of time on good ol' Route 66 if that'd work out for it.
I have no time frame on this yet, as I'm still waiting to hear any offers obviously. But spread the word around: Mike Minehart wants to go on a photography tour. I've even made a poster for you to show to people. How convenient!
If that isn't one of the cheesiest things I've ever created, then I don't know what is. Then again, strange things do tend to happen at... 5 AM?! Wow, I guess I really lost track of time while working on that...
I want to put together a photography "tour" from MN to Los Angeles and back. My goal is to shoot shows, bands, and any other interested persons in many new locations en route to a brief stay in LA before returning home and shooting some more while on the way back.
I wouldn't mind discovering some sweet new music while on the road, and I think great out-of-town bands trading shows with awesome Minneapolis bands that I know would be a pretty nice thing to see more of. Plus you'd obviously be getting some great photos from one of the best concert photographers in the Twin Cities.
So if you live anywhere west of the Mississippi River or know any bands or persons who may be interested in hiring me for around the cost of gas, food, and a place for me to crash in your town, I'm down for it if it all links up into a tour!
----------
And now, story time for those of you who like to read:
I spent much of my Sunday during Memorial Day weekend at a grad party for Pony from The Melismatics. She had just finished up school for massage therapy, and there were plenty of her family and friends over at the relatively chill but enjoyable party.
In the evening, Charles and Christy from Ouija Radio arrived, and eventually Christy and I struck up a conversation about her time spent with The Von Bondies on their recent European tour. She joined the band a little over a year ago as a full-time member and they had just recently released their new album, so The Von Bondies have been out pushing hard with touring and such.
There were many highs and lows for The Von Bondies on the month-long European tour, one that left the band exhausted from a constant schedule of appearances and shows with little to no sleep. But one of the things that really struck me was how Christy approached her occasional free time after shows and during visits to cities in Europe.
Christy made a point of it to have the locals guide her to some of the best local shows around town, and then soaked in all of the atmosphere of the scene that she could. Basically, she discovered some great bands that may have otherwise never crossed paths with her or The Von Bondies.
It may not seem like that complicated of an idea, but making a point of it to get out and see bands is what got me to where I am today. In 3 1/2+ years of capturing the Minneapolis/St. Paul music scene, I have shot hundreds of bands and developed a portfolio the likes of which makes me probably one of the best concert photographers around town. And I've discovered a plethora of great Twin Cities bands and other people I'm proud to call friends of mine.
But that's just here in the Twin Cities. Though I constantly tout our local music scene and its wide array of awesome bands, Christy made me realize that there's probably hundreds of great local bands scattered throughout dozens of music scenes waiting to be discovered by people outside of their town.
I have seen my fair share of smaller out-of-town acts, but that's usually because they're playing here in the Twin Cities. What about the bands who are still floating under the radar and haven't gone more than 100 (or even 10) miles beyond their city limits yet? I'm almost wondering if those are actually the really good rock and roll acts too, because — for example — even though probably a majority of the bands I've seen from Chicago were pretty lame, all of them were touring acts. So there's clearly potential to find untapped, unknown bands in new places.
You might ask, "Why not just read some stuff online and learn about music that way?" Because that's not how I approach discovering new music. I'm a see-it-to-believe-it kind of guy, and more often than not I like to be completely oblivious to a band's sound and style before I see them for the first time so I can get a "pure" first exposure. If you have a bad night, tough luck, but you should know that the best bands can still make their off nights look and sound pretty damn good.
This is the photographer in me speaking, but I want overt emotion, excitement, and awesomeness in any band I see. Subtlety and a reserved attitude is fine in small doses, but if you're putting me to sleep by your third song you're probably not the right band for me to begin with. That's not to say that bands like that are bad, but if you know my top 16 favorite Twin Cities acts (in alphabetical order)...
Ari Herstand
Catchpenny
Charlz Newman
Lynhurst
MC/VL
ReadyGoes
Roster McCabe
Sick of Sarah
So It Goes
The Alarmists
The Debut
The Invincible Kids
The Melismatics
The Wannabe Hasbeens
This World Fair
White Light Riot
...you'll realize that they all know how to completely rock your face off when necessary. Awesome bands make for awesome photography, and when the music and lighting is good, I'll shoot at a break-neck pace all night.
Anyways, what I'm getting at here is, I want to see and shoot some new music. New faces in new places. I want a taste of the local music scenes elsewhere so that I can bring that knowledge back to Minneapolis and spread it around. I want to find bands that might be perfect to have trade shows with a band like The Debut or ReadyGoes, for example. And I want to capture some kickass photography in great out-of-town local venues that I've never even heard of.
Money's not my motivation with this, cause all I'd need to get from doing this is traveling money and a place to crash at to cover my costs. Rather, I want to create mutual benefits in that I'll gain exposure in your town and vice versa. After all, if great bands can tour, then why not a great photographer?
My route would ideally follow a logical path from MN to LA and back. Whether it involves hitting up the Pacific northwest, heading down into the southern states, or just cutting straight through the Plains and the Rockies, I'm fine with taking any reasonable path in or out. Heck, if I really want to make my dad jealous, the route to LA could involve a significant amount of time on good ol' Route 66 if that'd work out for it.
I have no time frame on this yet, as I'm still waiting to hear any offers obviously. But spread the word around: Mike Minehart wants to go on a photography tour. I've even made a poster for you to show to people. How convenient!
If that isn't one of the cheesiest things I've ever created, then I don't know what is. Then again, strange things do tend to happen at... 5 AM?! Wow, I guess I really lost track of time while working on that...
Saturday, May 23, 2009
The Unveiling
Tonight (5/23) at England Swings at The Fineline. No hints, spoilers, or details whatsoever. You gotta see it to believe it.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
What's a Borangutan?
Today I'm glad to announce to the world that I've joined a brand-new Twin Cities music blog called Borangutan. I'll be contributing photography to the site for a new weekly series called Seein' The Scene and might even throw a few other things up there from time to time. My first entry just went up a little bit ago, so check it out and be sure to keep reading about music on one of the best new websites in the Twin Cities!
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