On March 30th, 2010, I had the privilege of seeing my musical heroes put on the most amazing show EVER. Muse. The concert was EPIC. I loved every moment of it. There is just something about their music that is so stirring. Their music is larger than life and so was the memorable performance they created at the concert. Matthew Bellamy's voice was absolutely flawless. I was jumping up and down like a teen at a Twilight convention. Why can't I feel that good all the time?
One thing I've learned about myself is that music makes me happy. Or sad. But always...sort of... satisfied? I've been trying to get out and go to more concerts, preferably small venue shows, because it seems to be one of the few things that makes me feel good. I was so happy to see Band of Skulls in September and was introduced to a wonderful and unique band from Saskatchewan, called Violent Kin. I am stoked that Band of Skulls is once again coming to my city and I can't wait to see them again! I think Violent Kin is also coming back this summer.
A couple years back I was blown away by the awesomeness that is Sea Wolf. I've listened to the album Leaves In the River many, many times, and one of their songs on that album reminds me so much of my story, (the one, I pretend to work on now and again). I love that music can do that. Just take you into another world, that may not even be the one they intended for you to see, but still acts as a portal to something out of your own imagination. The opening band that night was a band from New York called The Jealous Girlfriends. My favourite song of theirs is Secret Identity.
I've been sick for a week and a half, and am considering legally changing my name to the Magically-Mucous-Producing Monster. Yeah, that's right. It's a hyphenated name. Seriously though, where does it all come from??
I watched Clash of the Titans today. Though I was perfectly happy to sit and watch a movie instead of work, I think when you find yourself getting bored between action sequences, it's a bad sign. I suspect it has something to do with my lack of a penis, as the three boys I was with today seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.
I've decided (if I ever save a bit of money) that I will finally take the guitar lessons I've been meaning to take since I picked up a guitar seven years ago. My dad actually made me a guitar. His first attempt. It was this really heavy, but really tiny little thing that was made just for me. I no longer have it. He took it back. He claims he wants to fix it up some more, but I think he just wants to keep his baby home. He has since made several guitars, and mandolins. But I have one of my own again, and I don't seem to have the motivation or self-discipline to learn past a certain point on my own. I like to write music. Lyrics. Melody. And it's frustrating when I can't go beyond a certain point when I know the sort-of-song I've created, demands it.
So, yeah. Guitar lessons. Soon.