It’s time to check out a bunch of the tracks I have not posted recently. These are just a few of the songs that would get their own individual posts here on GIMME TINNITUS if I only had the time. Here is the next NOT POSTED mix.
You can stream (and scrobble) all the songs in this mix using the ex.fm player at the bottom of the page OR you can just download any or all of the tracks at your leisure and play them using a digital media player of your choice.
If you want to download all the individual tracks in this post, you should probably think about installing the DownThemAll! or FlashGot Firefox extensions as I am way too lazy to zip and upload every single NOT POSTED mix.
Also, if you like what you hear you should probably purchase music from the above artists at any of these fine online retailers (or your local independent record store):
When The Seedy Seeds were actively touring, we were in the habit of trying to get our daily itinerary as tight as possible. There’s no doubt that remnants of that approach were active in my brain as I reviewed Distant Correspondent’s routing and lodging plans just before departing for Denver. I didn’t like the way Pittsburgh was looking—our following stop would be Cincinnati where I knew for certain we could all get good rest, good meals, and a rare chance to do every stitch of laundry we have—but if we didn’t do things just right departing PGH, we’d get to Cincinnati too late to take advantage. I decided I’d propose we drive straight through to Cincinnati (or at least to Columbus) following our Pittsburgh show. Fortunately, when the time was ripe to pitch the plan to the rest of DC, everyone was game for it.
Despite that I’ve called the city “home” for the past 8 years, and that I’ve been active in the local music scene for almost as long, I’m not sure I would otherwise get so sentimental about a show in Cincinnati except that it was the booking of this show that effectively tipped things into motion with Distant Correspondent and inevitably landed me the gig touring with them. Adding to the importance I was already placing on the gig for myself, I found myself anxious to show DC off to Cincinnati and sharing what I do with DC—I was booked as the opener for the night. Between my expectations for the show and the barrage of texts from friends looking to get together, I was having trouble thinking of anything else by the time we were ready to depart Pittsburgh.
We arrived in Cincy around 5 a.m. knowing that we could sleep in as late as we wanted—we were here. I rose early and fixed some rice, daal, and veg soup for everyone, and took advantage of some time at home to tackle some non-musical projects.
David and I had been talking about him joining me on a song or two for almost the duration of tour, though we’d found every reason to not practice up to this point. Once the rest of the house was up (save for Michael, who, in filling his heroic role of driver for the last leg of our late-night-Cincinnati-or-bust drive from PGH, had consumed enough energy to power a small farmhouse for a week, and was in a deep slumber on the pull-out couch), David and I got cracking on rehearsal. Around mid-afternoon my friend and backing vocalist Shannon Lewis arrived to join us.
There’s a lot to do in Cincinnati, and it would have been too easy to insert myself as tour-guide for the day, but I really only felt strongly about taking everyone to see one thing: The Party Source. The Party Source is a liquor store practically the size of a Wal-Mart on the other side of the river, and having been caught in some seriously stupid Cincinnati traffic en route, it was a magnificent sight to behold probably on the exact scale of Shackleton’s spotting of South Georgia from the James Caird. Once we were done exploring the aisles upon aisles of adult beverages, and were well-spoiled from the many, many choices of wine slammers available, it was time to head back, paint my nails, and head to Mayday for the show.
Upon arrival, it was clear that Cincinnati really came out to represent. I was thrilled to immediately set eyes on some super-awesome friends among some unfamiliar faces—all ready to sacrifice a good night’s sleep and possibly show up for work still a little drunk to support live music on a Monday night. After we’d loaded in, Shannon, David and I did a quick sound check. When it was time to get started, Shannon and I beckoned David and my friend Alex up on stage for a ToToast—my pre-show Margaret Darling ritual. Not like I’d ever say doing a pre-show shot is the wrong thing to do, but on this night it was certainly the right choice—I found I was extremely nervous performing my stuff in front of these four folks with whom I’d been touring. Probably do to my extremely loud and neurotic internal monologue, our set seemed to fly by. We welcomed David up to join us on “Curated Words” and “The Wake” before finishing our set and forfeiting the stage to Mack West.
Still a little wound up from nerves, I joined some friends on the patio for a few before heading in to catch Mack West’s set. Before I knew it, I was back on stage and finishing the night out with Distant Correspondent. The hometown energy was impossible to deny and I found myself at last at ease and having a seriously great time. It was seriously cool to open and close the show, and to have the support of so many seriously awesome folks in attendance. I hope DC can make it back to the Queen City very soon for a repeat.
Toronto noise merchants and GT favs, The Soupcans are dropping a new EP today. Parasite Brain is being released today via Telephone Explosion and Jack Shack a/k/a JKSHK. The band states: “[t]he new EP features six more tunes about mental problems, dental hygiene, futuristic dystopias and altered consciousnesses. So what else is new?” This here is the EP’s slow-churned, feedback-filled freakout.
Downloadable: Crimes Of The Future, Pt. II (mp3)
Ed. Note: Sorry, this mp3 was only available for a limited time. Here’s a stream…
Emily here once more. After we’ve checked out of the motel, we load up on copious amounts of coffee and the first hot meal – with actual vegetables! – we’ve eaten in days. Feeling markedly more human, we pile back into Bernadette to commence our journey to the southernmost spot on our tour (I politely decline the lift I am offered in an obviously stolen car by a woman begging money at the gas station). We’re playing on the roof of a former theatre in Georgia, Athens, which makes us the fucking Beatles. Dreaming of our legions of screaming fans, we travel through the most beautiful scenery we’ve seen thus far, mountains shrouded in the colors of fall and pleasingly gothic expanses of black water. I decide I need to move to the border between Tennessee and Georgia. When we arrive in Athens, the night-time air is balmy enough for us to be wandering around in short sleeves, reminding us that, in the past week, we have driven through three seasons. Back up in Colorado, there was snow on the ground, and now we’re in high summer once more. We meet with Hunter, a charming fly-fisherman whose band is also playing and who has very kindly offered to put us up for the night. We’re doing pretty well for meeting great people and really appreciate how kind and generous everyone has been. We drive round to the venue, and are delighted to see our name up in lights above the door. We’re definitely the fucking Beatles. It’s a new building on an old spot, an electrical fault having caused the original theatre to burn down five years ago. It has been impressively rebuilt and now serves as a multi-purpose arts venue, showcasing films and music and serving up delicious food. We’d been a bit uncertain about what playing on the roof was actually going to entail, but there’s a great set-up, a very adept sound guy, a big curving bar and an absolutely stunning view of the city’s up-lit classical architecture. This is going to be good. Tyler, spying a poster advertising Television’s gig next week, decides we should probably write off the rest of the tour and just stay here. We watch Hunter’s band, Blue Blood, in which his thoughtfully plaintive guitar and vocal parts are backed up with accordion, before taking to the stage ourselves. Playing up above the city in the open air, with the glowing cupolas and domes rising up out of the darkness below us, is a truly magical experience, and our audience, lounging beneath the bar’s heat lamps, are enthusiastic about our set. We’re followed by Wood Fangs, whose raucous, unhinged brand of rock is reminiscent of a Deep South Pixies. What with the tearful groupies, the paparazzi and the protesters unconvinced by our claims to be bigger than Jesus, getting out of the venue afterwards is a struggle, but eventually we make it back to Hunter’s for some much-needed shut-eye. Or, in the case of band members more rock’n’roll than I’m feeling at this point, more whisky.
CONTACT INFO: gimmetinnitus [at] gmail [dot] com, If you want to send me music for possible inclusion on this here blog… please please email me.
DISCLAIMER: Some of the mp3 links found here are promotional in nature and will disappear without notice. All music, images, and links on this site are used in accordance with the doctrine of Fair Use. However, I am sensitive to copyright holders wishes, if you want anything removed from this blog, please contact me at the email address in the sidebar above.