:: live magazine content ::
We had our 2nd anniversary party on Friday. It was great … and Ryan took a bunch of wonderful pictures — check them out.
George I think wins for look of the night — so that means Deanna wins since she bought his shirt — here’s a triptych of delight:
A big box of what-have-you: music we love, music we made, and anything else musically notable.
Photos from Jorin’s Treo 600.
Rob airs his grievances.
As the action figure generation hits the age where everyone has a decent job, and maybe not a real direction for spending income, the collectible and specialized toy market blossoms. And winds up producing some pretty weird stuff.
This is what we think!
So we just got back from LA, and it was a blast again this year. It’s been nice having a summer vacation these two years with some part of the team, and we were pretty successful in the Harold Competition this year, in that we maxed out our possible number of shows, each show was better than the previous one, and they were all at least good … the last one contending for best ever. We were representing iO Chicago as a theater, so it feels good to feel like we did that well.
Ryan took some pictures of the trip, so that’s great. George brought his camera, and took no pictures.
I haven’t been writing or recording much music in a while, pretty much since life got busy + happier, but I’ve been inspired more, lately, to write some goofy weirdo stuff based on some of the stuff that comes from being with the team.
This is the first one I’ve finished up, it’s just based on the pseudonym we use when we play at the Cornservatory, and I started wondering what the story might be behind such a character. I will not include the accompanying two minute faux greek mythology spoken word piece.
[you may have to crank it — I don’t have home mastering … mastered … so it has a decent mix-down, but may not be, by default, loud enough to satisfy your rock needs]
… oh, and, yes,
Shake What the Fire Baked
is on the way sometime. I’ve got the lyrics written + the melody sketched out. It’s about a 1930s asylum that burns down while all the patients just dance. I’m trying to channel George as much as possible.
| |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
