in the country, everybody thinks we’re dumb

There is no doubt I’m a city girl.  I go away from the city for too long and my Chucks are begging for concrete.  However, I stay in the city for too long, and I’m begging to get out of here by any means possible.  I’m kind of like a hybrid—though, generally more efficient in the city.

in the country the farms and the orchards swell with oranges and peaches / a little bit of truth as well / in the city, politicians beat their drum / all the suits come around and it’s our degeneration

life marches on / life marches on . . .

in the country everybody thinks we’re dumb / we build the fire / why’d you come and get you some?  / in the city, skyscrapers touch the sky / what’s the use of being so high when it’s only gonna bring you down

in the country stars shine brighter / than in the city / in the country, in the country

in the city i turn on the radio / only leaves me down with the question “what happened to our generation?”

Life Marches On, Live

I require some country in me sometimes.  I’m good with some time on my own.  I need some time on my own.  I’m too contemplative, probably too sensitive, to not need time alone when I’m feeling reflective.  I’ve written hundreds upon hundreds of pages of just stuff, filled dozens of notebooks contemplating.  At the cabin, at the other cabin, on the road, in hotel rooms, in airplanes, in cars and trucks and buses.  Contemplation of life, of school, of problems and then . . . of God.  And God’s presence in life, in school, in problems.  Hours with a video camera, a still camera, capturing moments.  Maybe that’s why I do all this – capture moments.

The country, I think, gives us a better connection with the world around us, because it takes away much of that clutter that we deal with every day.  the stars shine brighter.  Metaphorically or literally, the air is clearer.  We can reflect and see things reflect.

I’m a city girl.  I love my concrete.  But, I think I was socialized with a little bit of gravel road in me too.

and in this moment i am happy . . . happy.

i wish you were here, incubus

conversations: incubus – morning view [feat. ryan gregg from addison road]

So, Addison Road is cool.  You should give them a listen, share some love, and buy an album or four.

They as a band also respond to tweets, as does their lovely guitarist Ryan Gregg!  I’ve had a few brief conversations with him in the past while, and today this came up:

  

Then this happened:

And now I am sitting here thinking . . . THANKS Ryan Gregg, for making me think about that, for pulling me to type ‘morning view’ into my iTunes library again.  Man.  I love this album – I love it as much, if not more, than I did five-plus years ago when I first got into Incubus at the ripe age of fourteen.

The excellent mixes of clear and distorted guitar tones, the subtle touches of djembe.  The faint and not-so-faint touches of crickets in the tracking as recorded outside the Morning View house.  The ability of this band to so greatly capture emotion on different levels—depths.  Brandon’s lyrics.

Also thinking: man.  This is a freaking epic album.  I plan to go through it song by song in blog-post form over the next few weeks. 

Grab a copy at your local record store or on iTunes and join me.

tastekid

So this has to be the greatest website ever for finding new music.  Seriously.

Because I have just added 45 songs to my iTunes, including Red, Sanctus Real and Falling Up.

It’s super weird, however, because I type in stuff, and it recommends bands I already listen to.  The thing actually WORKS.

For example, I typed in “Incubus, Chevelle, The Fray” and out of the selections it also gives me TrustCompany [which involves Kevin Palmer, the same vocalist as Amity Lane, who I already listen to, I just haven’t morphed over to TrustCompany yet], and P.O.D., as well as some new stuff. 

This thing . . . is genius.

Try it out . . . and let me know your findings!