Sometimes, I enjoy a song enough to write about it.

AHEM:

I never intended to ever make a music-themed blog. Granted, my life somewhat revolves around the discovery and intense evaluation of the music that is accidentally and purposefully introduced to my nice little ears, but I quit the writing part so many years ago after I came to the conclusion that my style was much to be desired, sucked, etc. After the time it took to get over myself, I feel confident about throwin' this shit around for anyone who wants to pick it up and find or make some good out of it. This blog is not going to be just music, because that is not the way my life works.... makes sense.

So, the Cave Singers.

I saw them open for Department of Eagles in January, which is actually one of the first shows I have ever gone to in Seattle, which is a big shame. I really enjoy DoE; in the same way that I enjoy a trip to New York Shitty. It's fun for a day, charming, I get very exicted and smile a lot. But, it doesn't quite stir my innards. I know that it ain't for me entirely, that I could enjoy it for a bit but ultimately move onto something that feels like a better fit.

Hohum, anyway, the Cave Singers. I was kinda late walking into Neumos..but I caught these lads only about a song or two into their set. Only three of them?..the singers got a tambourine and a voice of a 12-year old smoker. The guitarest is fingerpicking some southern appalachian blues and the drummer is just smiling and waiting. I instantly liked the way they stood up there, close together, the singer wearing a knit hat and a sweatshirt, with a bushy beard and his eyes closed. Friend Pile. Foot stomping and head shaking was his preferred method of dance, he looked as if he couldn't help it; I get so excited when people cannot hold in what they feel.
Whatever kind of thing they expected to be creating when they started doesn't matter. The music is in no way complex, and the only thing slightly folkish about it is the guitar strumming. Its atmosphere is so rich with celebration, little hymnlets to us, I envsion wooden houses, meadows, summer evening sun, heavy air. .. it feels like music that was born out of the Smokey Mountains, written by a thought heavy man who remembers when he was the only one around and is married to nature.

Helen, by the Cave Singers. This one stuck around the party in my head for days after this show was over. I think it stuck out to me because the joint was absolutely silent; this guy had command of everyone in that room during this song and I must bow my body low in the presense of a power like that.


That's it, I really gotta go get some dinner in my belly.