How I came to love Amanda Palmer

I admit, I still don't know her well. I'm familiar with some of her Dresden Dolls material and some of her more recent work. I was deterred by her looks and her voice, the musical style didn't speak to me; I didn't connect. In a way, I didn't believe, I thought it was all show.
When I heard she was dating and later married Neil Gaiman, I thought she was the lucky one, that he was Her catch.

But I was so wrong. All I had to do was listen, read her words and look into her eyes and heart. She's been working tirelessly for her music, her art, her fans and her loved ones. She is fighting, in ever original and inspiring ways, against bullying and for a greater understanding and harmony between people. And when you feel her passion you know she'll get there, she'll reach every lonely despondent youth, every couple who's forgotten their initial spark.

She once met a random teenager and encouraged him to write beautiful music. She cancelled a tour to be with an ailing friend. She is revolutionizing crowd funding and contact with fans as any indie - true indie - artist can, promoting the slogan 'We are the media'.

And she means it.

She is not perfect. I don't like all her songs. There is something about her that is disquieting. But I cannot help but love her. She's not perfect-  she's human and true and I can feel her message and know that I'm not alone in my pain, that there is a kinship shared by everyone. That, perhaps, there is still hope.

P.S. - Neil is the lucky one.


Amanda Palmer & The Grand Theft Orchestra - The Bed Song
Amanda Palmer's website and twitter.

"... But one day I'll be free"

It's true I am out of touch. In part, I wish to escape the dreary reality I was born into and be elsewhere, anywhere, but in the here and now. Music used to allow me such a method of traveling without moving (too much - even this poor body can attempt his own version of a dance on occasion). But I seemed to have hardened my skin in the past few years, raising new barriers to keep the world out and looking deeper within. So it now takes a more conscious effort to open up and listen, and consequently, to feel. But I can't hide anymore. And though the pain is ever present, it may have some positive uses to it yet.

But I will take things in measure. Life, and the people we meet, need to be appreciated. Every person has a story to tell, a unique voice, a point of view. The world is full of wonder and terror and we know nothing except this very moment. We may be wrong, we may be right, but that in itself doesn't matter as much as the respect and love we give our fellow travelers. And if that sounds like a load of new age BS, well, maybe it is. Meaning, as pretty much everything, is in the eye of the beholder.

Marika Hackman (taken from a Bristol Couch session)

Marika Hackman is a beautiful British artist I was fortunate enough to be introduced to a few days ago. As always, the music speaks for itself, and it carries that slightly haunting-mysterious air about it that I find so intriguing and appealing. It evokes that feeling of distant memories and dreams long gone, of scenes and experiences you're not sure were ever real, but are true just the same. Recording these clips in a dark tunnel adds its share as well.




Marika Hackman - Bath is Black {from the upcoming That Iron Taste mini album}


Marika Hackman - Mountain Spines {from the upcoming That Iron Taste mini album}

Check Marika Hackman on tour and on her website:

Marika Hackman w/ Ethan Johns UK Dates 

1st Feb – Brighton – Unitarian Church

2nd Feb – Brighton – South Street Theatre

4th Feb – Bristol – Colston Hall 

2 5th Feb – Cardiff – The Gate Arts Centre

6th Feb – Exeter – Phoenix 

7th Feb – Nottingham – Glee Club Studio

9th Feb – Sheffield – The Lantern Theatre

10th Feb – Birmingham – Glee Club

11th Feb – Norwich – Arts Centre

13th Feb – Liverpool – The Capstone Theatre

14th Feb – Stockton – The Georgian Theatre

15th Feb – Kendal – Brewery Arts Centre

16th Feb – Edinburgh – The Pleasance Theatre

18th Feb – Manchester – Sacred Trinity

19th Feb – Leeds – Brudenell

25th Feb – London – Purcell Rooms 

Marika Hackman Headline UK Tour

28th Feb  – Brighton – Komedia

1st March – Bristol – Louisiana

2nd march – Manchester – The Castle

3rd March – Edinburgh – Electric Circus

4th March – Newcastle – Think Tank

                                           6th March – London – Sebright Arms

Be sure to also check out Bristol Couch on Youtube for some lovely outdoorsy folk clips, including one featuring Marika Hackman.

 

Shower Time

I tried to die,
I told my heart to stop,
Today, as the water washed over flesh,
Seemingly warm, sensually cold.
But my valve wouldn't stop
(though it did deign to slow)
As I cried and I begged it for boon.
"Let it go", I pleaded,
"get some rest", I did try.
For a minute or two,
I thought there was hope,
For the dimness was suddenly fresh;
And I thought that I saw,
Though it shimmered and sparkled,
A silence profound in my head.
And there were no voices,
Only water keeps running,
Keeps running all over my head.
And for one single instant
(it may have been two)
There was peace and serenity too.
But the voices returned,
The breath, it resumed,
And so did I, gasping for air.
And the moment, it passed,
And I still remain,
And all for a valve and a voice in my head,
And a memory that never was there.

The Rest

The last time I wrote about The Rest I got fired. Of course, I wasn't fired Because I wrote about them and I was re-hired just 2 days later, but still... it's a correlation to give anyone a reason to pause and consider. And I don't mean is it worth the risk of getting fired again. No, once you get into the music there's hardly going back. A part of me, perhaps a growing part, would not mind getting fired if it's to the sounds of good music.

The Rest

And it is. If you listen carefully to their new album, SEESAW, you may notice some other worldly innuendos, familiar and original waves, coursing towards some unknown destination, thrilled to be free. Part of it is the music celebrating itself, after being nearly destroyed in a hard-drive incident. The other part? Well, that's you, enjoying yourself along.



The Rest are on Bandcamp, last.fm and tumblr.
The Rest - Hey! For Horses {MP3}

Nothing to do, of course, with the current situation*

The bells were ringing again today. Sometimes distant, sometimes close enough to shatter my windows, they ring now more frequently than in the past. More urgently at times too. Crying wolf or just plain crying.

And me? I deftly avoid the airwaves that follow, hollow and loud. Despair? Apathy? The naive belief that everything will be alright? I do it all. Is there nothing left but to wait for the other shoe to drop, at long last, and let it be over?

Sure, there were times the bells tolled a story so contrived that it couldn't be true - it couldn't, could it? - that reached beneath the surface, briefly. But all things pass, do they not? Look at the greater picture, they say; it matters little.

The bells are ringing again today, recalling echoes of distant beacons that shone with promise and hope, and now crumble greyly, choked by vines and grime. Mocking, the sounds drift away, becoming blessedly muffled as I take another dose.

* This, for example.

A beginning - IV

IV

After diligently having taken care of several cracked doors and windows in the spacious but aging lobby, our tenacious Mistress tackled the issue of pets and other animals around the properties. Though cats, both stray and resident, showed an unusual attraction to LDB, dogs had, for the most part, quite a different response. The day time doorman's dog, a large old Lab that seemed to have spent most of her time lying on a mat next to her master's feet, used to begin a snarl cut abruptly by a retreat into a corner when the old woman was rarely passing by. The night time doorman, with whom I was a little more acquainted, told me that on occasions, when the shifts change, LDB would pause and stare briefly at the dog, a fleeting sense of amusement in her eyes. Other dogs, large and small, mostly avoided her all together; that is, except for Old Watson's little mutt.

A Beginning - III

III

Shrouded in mystery as she was, LDB was forthcoming enough to slowly take the reins of the building's managing board. A compromise candidate at first, she defied her frail appearance to appear and resolutely drive the board relentlessly over its meetings. No one was quite sure how or why, but she was elected into a second term in office, and then a third and a fourth. And as some tenants came and went, the only fixture, apart from the Darken Maiden statue on the roof that gave it its name, LDB ruled supreme.