Comfort always made the rescue

September 26, 2009

I can barely stand to write about this right now for I feel I might just cry. Why oh why did Chiodos kick Craig Owens out of the band?! I only found out about this today, though it happened recently. Craig Owens WAS Chiodos. How could they kick him out just like that? So many times I turned to their music when I was feeling upset. Especially their song “No Hardcore Dancing In The Living Room”. Craig’s voice was what set Chiodos apart from every other band. (Though, I must say, the piano pieces were also very beautiful and Jason’s guitar riffs and hooks were pretty insane.)

I was on Polyvore looking at some girl’s set and she had commented that Chiodos kicked Craig out of the band. I thought I knew for sure this was a silly rumor. So I Googled it. Then I knew it was true when I saw that Alternative Press had covered this story. I read the article in shock, while inside I really did want to cry. I ran upstairs and yelled, “IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD.” My dad gave me a funny look then resumed watching something on TV. I ran into the kitchen and repeated myself, hoping my mom would ask what was wrong so I could rant.

I told my mom Craig had been booted from Chiodos and I ranted. All the while I told her this I almost started crying with sad, angry tears. How in the world could they make a new record and then decide that Craig can no longer be a part of it? How is that even fair?

Craig, I want to let you know that whenever you are touring with Isles and Glaciers or Cinematic Sunrise or even a solo tour and you happen to stop by Kansas City, I will be there to support you and your music. Though, nothing will ever be as amazing or the same as Chiodos. When Chiodos included you and Derrick Frost, you were the world to me. The old Chiodos still means the world to me. Now every time I shall listen to a Chiodos record, there will be a sadness left over.


Did we all fall down?

June 30, 2009

I was listening to “Desert Song” by My Chemical Romance and that song completely renewed my love for them. I like The Black Parade and Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge, but those two albums just aren’t the same as I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love. Raw emotion is spilled into each song, and Gerard’s voice sounds amazing. He sounds angry and well… unhappy; if that’s what it takes to write a sad song then My Chem do a pretty good job. (Especially in “Early Sunsets Over Monroeville” which is definitely one of my favorites.)

Sometimes I like lying on the disgusting carpeted floor in my room. I’m either listening to music or thinking. When I heard the sound of the E minor cord on guitar I knew it could be none other than “Desert Song”. Gerard’s voice sounding deep comes in letting each word drag on. And let me just say, the word “morgue” never sounded so appealing until I heard this song. No, it isn’t just because Gerard was singing it, but he sort of romanticized death in this song. He sounded wonderfully pained if that doesn’t sound too confusing.

Well after all, we’ll lie another day
And through it all, we’ll find some other way
To carry on through cartilage and fluid
Well did you come to stare or wash away the blood?

later going on to

From the lights to the pavement
From the van to the floor
From backstage to the doctors
From the earth to the morgue,
Morgue,
Morgue,
Morgue.

There isn’t a meaning to this post, I was only sharing my opinion.


I want to scream at the top of my lungs.

June 25, 2009

I can’t stop smiling. I want to scream and punch things like a mad woman, but I can’t. Instead, I’ll just smile and run in circles while listening to Taking Back Sunday.

Last night I said to my mother, “I would do anything to see Taking Back Sunday again.” “Well, hon, it’s over. You can’t be mad about it,” she replied. My mother had it wrong. I wasn’t mad, I was extremely sad. I wanted to have a good cry over it. Really, I should be lucky I even saw Taking Back Sunday at all. Instead, I moped about not being close to the stage or to put it this way, I couldn’t see the stage at all. All I heard was my voice next to Adam Lazzara’s voice. It was like watching a YouTube video.

I sat on the bus today, God knows how hot it was. The humidity was stiffling, and I could just barely breathe. I flipped on my phone and pulled up the interent. I immeadiately checked my email, hoping there would be something worth reading. I opened one my mother had sent me. My jaw dropped. Taking Back Sunday were coming back to Kansas City September 4th with Blink-182 and Weezer. To top that off, tickets were only twenty dollars.

I turned to my friend and grabbed her arms and shook her wildly. “GUESS WHAT?! TAKING BACK SUNDAY ARE COMING BACK TO KANSAS CITY!!!” I yelled, hopping up and down in my seat. “Phoenixx, calm down,” she said to me, but I couldn’t. My stomach was way too excited to simply calm down. I knew instantly that this was going to be a damn good bus ride home.

Nothing mattered. All I cared about at that moment were tickets. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs with joy and race up my front porch. I wanted to kick at things violently because no one knew what I was feeling. I felt amazing.

I later found out the twenty dollar tickets sold out, BUT thirty five dollar tickets were still available. So of course I bought them. Nothing matters. Though Taking Back Sunday do matter, and I want to live in the moment of their performance because I know it will be stunning.


Amazing Because It Is

May 20, 2009

5/19/09

Yep, if you’re guessing the title of this post was inspired by The Almost’s song “Amazing Because It Is” then you are correct! I’m back with the usual topic, music. If you are a frequent reader of my blog I know this must get annoying. Unless of course you enjoy finding out about good bands and reading a young girl’s concert reviews. I should probably just say this is a blog meant for talking about music. But you see, some days I feel angsty or inspired and I want to be able to express that. So if you are already bored by my rambling I suggest you read something else.

I used to consider myself a music obsesser. Really, I’m just a music addict. It’s hard not for me to be without music for just one day. And today you will learn about me being inspired and listening to The Almost and Underoath, and mainly talking about Aaron Gillespie. Here’s the deal, one day way back when I heard about a band called Underoath. When I heard Underoath I couldn’t understand how someone could listen to another person’s screaming. Literally. My music taste has matured and changed quite a bit, and now I do appreciate some impressive screaming. I later heard about a little band called The Almost.

Now it’s May of 2009 and I’m listening to The Almost (and Underoath) and loving every single one of their songs. The overwhelming sound of Aaron Gillespie’s voice makes me stop what I’m doing just to finish the song. My personal favorite is “Dirty and Left Out”. You know you have those artists or albums that you can listen to over and over again? (In my mother’s case, it is Snow Patrol.) I have just found that band, and The Almost’s album is quite fabulous. And the fact that Aaron recorded all the instruments except for a few tracks on the album without anyone else is astonishing (he later formed the band). I find Aaron to be an amazing vocalist and drummer and I wrote this post to acknowledge that.


Be Somebody

March 4, 2009

If I had to choose one song to die to, I would never be able to choose. Thursday’s “Understanding In a Car Crash” is just so perfect to me. Almost like poetry. The lyrics are just so brutal and beautiful. The guitar puts you on edge as goosebumps crawl up and down your arms and legs. Hot tears bubbling at your eyes; deep breaths.

So push the seats back a little further
Roll the windows down and take a breath
I can see the headlights coming
They paint the world in red and broken glass
The spinning hubcaps set the tempo for
the music of a broken window
When the lights are on and the cameras click
We open up the lens to broken glass and it’s over in a flash

Or another favorite of mine is “The Scientist” by Coldplay. The lyrics, Nobody said it was easy. Nobody said it would be so hard. ring in my ears like they are something to live by. Honestly, living is the hard part, death could be rather easy. You just die. That’s it. Everything. Gone. Over. Nothing more than that. Now Lovedrug’s “Doomsday and the Echo” is oh so lovely. I adore every last lyric to this song. I cannot even begin to explain how much I love it. “Everything Starts Where it Ends” is brilliant as well, though there is something about “Doomsday and the Echo” that makes me itch over each sentence as though I should be analyzing it.

Can’t walk it off
Can’t come clean
               Later going on to…

Hey, just woke up and already I’m a losing
Messed up everything again
Drink up, pass the gun again
Hey, just woke up and already I’m a losing
Messed up everyone again
Someone pass the gun again

I got to thinking about this subject after thinking I was a failure. Playing guitar is one of my dreams and I have to succeed at it. Guitar lessons have been going… not so good. At least I don’t feel I’ve been doing nearly good enough. I want to friggen’ shred! I want to riff and rock. I want to be up on stage, sweat dripping from my body. Being a phenomenal performer such as Jason Hale or Jimi Hendrix. The spectacular sound as well, maybe the cleanest you’ve ever heard? I want to be the best of the best. Each lesson I’d like to be told I am amazing at guitar even if I am still a beginner. I would love for those words to be spoken honest and truthful. I guess plan “B”, which is writing, is what I should try to shoot for, for now. I’ll do my best to improve my writing each and every day. Giving every writing assignment 110% percent whether it is stupid or not. As most have you have heard the saying, “No problem.” let me introduce a new one to you all. No promises. 

Reader,  I don’t fully understand myself either, but leaving earth with a sad song just seems like a good way to go. When I die I want to be cremated, I want my (Alleged I suppose. Though trust me, Kat Von D IS going to tattoo me.) tattoos to tell my story before I am burned to ashes. I want them to play one of my song choices for death. I want to be remembered.

Current song of choice at the moment, “The Undertaker’s Thirst For Revenge Is Unquenchable (The Final Battle)” by Chiodos.

And all the world’s a stage
I existed because I dreamed
And well, I dream no more
I’ve given up on the entire human race


What a Day

January 29, 2009

Today I was shadowing at the school I will go to next school year. It was nerve wracking thinking about it, even though I was only going to follow a girl around her school all day. I had to be awake by six thirty this morning to make it on time. School starts at 7:10 for them, which sucks for me. The school is in the downtown area which is about a twenty minute drive.

I arrived at the school building feeling panicky, my mouth kept twitching with anxiety. (What a wuss!) I had to go through the metal detectors, then into the office where I waited for a girl named Rose. I stood there with my little bag which held a couple pens, a notebook, my lunch, and a book (“Burned” by Ellen Hopkins to be exact). When Rose arrived my mother signed a slip and left. She turned and looked at me, smiled, and spoke, “Your lip just twitched.” then gave me a half hug. Rose and I were then asked to the guidance counselor’s office to be asked questions about the shadowing. It took a couple minutes, but was taken care of with a phone call to my mother.

While I was in a few of her classes I had time to make a couple journal entries. My first was in her French class, first period.

Journal entry #1

There isn’t one boy in the classroom. I looked around the room several times to see all girls populating the classroom. The class was interesting. When they spoke in French it sounded intriguing, minus the fact I hadn’t a clue what they were saying. The words that were flowing off their tongues sounded so… hmmm… interesting, though that isn’t the right word. Oh well. The teacher seemed nice I suppose, though I haven’t known her long enough. Challenging for sure, at least from my perspective. Maybe this is a class I might want to think about taking up, it is just the comprehending part I’m worried about. The students were reading from their books, as the teacher would call out names to read sentences (some girls were obviously unsure about what they were reading). Then we had to listen to an audio tape and identify what they were saying. To end class, they played a game where the teacher would call out a word in French and the first person to write out the word in English, correctly, would earn their team a point.

 SCHEDULE 7:10 -2:10

– French

– Health

– ??

– Band

– Lunch

– Latin

– Geography

– English

A couple hours passed and I didn’t write a thing, but I did read. Health was scary. The kids were crazy, loud, rude, creepy, disrespectful. The whole deal. I just sat there staring at the pages I was easily reading. Afraid to look up, feeling like a million pairs of eyes would be staring at me. I recognized a kid who used to go to my school. Only because of his neon, lime green Converse, I saw. Then I looked up to see his long brunette hair that I remembered. Finally the bell (buzzer really) rang and I was saved.

The name of the next class was unknown to me and I never found out. I felt more comfortable in this room. As I read more of my book. I held a uni-ball pen in my hand for no reason really, just something to hold onto to boost my comfort zone (like wearing jackets ALL the time). A girl Rose was friends with talked to me. Mainly about books. She said had read “Burned” and told me it was amazing. I then noticed she was carrying “Thirteen Reasons Why” around and we both agreed it was pretty good. 

Band was next. Rose didn’t really stop back at her locker so we kept on walking  (rushing) down to the band room. In that room I recognized another boy from my school, his name is Austen. He is quite mischievous, he looked the same in the face, maybe a little more mature. Medium brown skin with a vague red tint. Whatever. Unfortunately I didn’t have much time to read during band. Though the class did not play their instruments, instead they filled a work packet while the teacher handed me one to look over.

LUNCH. Whooo!! Eating lunch was easy. Talked with a couple more of Rose’s friends. One who I thought was awful, the other liked the same kind of music as me. In fact we both said we loved Brendon Urie from Panic At The Disco, and I told her I saw them in June of last year. She was in shock that they even came here and then it turned to fake sadness. I ate most of my lunch, while still being asked, “Are you new here?” (which got rather annoying). Yet, I still felt like the odd one out. After lunch we shimmied back up the steps to Latin.

Journal entry #2

Latin. It’s interesting so far. Though I am yet to hear someone speak the language. I was handed a quiz paper and a book, even though the teacher was told I was shadowing. He told the class all of the questions to the test can be answered on page 175 in the book. I thought, What the heck, might as well fill it out. Not knowing the timer would go off I took my sweet time writing down the answers. I think I wrote down at least six, complete sentence, answers when the timer went off. With that I think I’ll just recycle the paper, besides I won’t be back here until next school year. The teacher started asking the questions from the test, which lead in to other discussion. The teacher seems nice, humorous, or at least trying. Though I haven’t seen him mad so I can’t label too soon.

Geography made me freak out. I didn’t like it, but I don’t really like school at all so…. I was in the front row, yet I still had trouble reading what was on the board.  They were taking a pop quiz and when I didn’t answer the question I felt (and heard) kids getting mad at me. I felt like the teacher was staring me down, maybe I was just paranoid. My next journal entry.

Journal entry #3

Okay so I know I want to come here next year. It is definitely challenging. The only things I’m afraid of are the early mornings (gotta be up by six and there by seven), the students, a couple teachers, and the hallways in between classes. Hopefully I’ll have a few friends to face it with me. Right now I’m going to try and relax before the time comes at the end of August. (And during the last week of summer break that I’ll have to “prep” for those wonderful (note sarcasm) early mornings.)

English was okay. I wish they had a better teacher, but I didn’t see the students “in action” either. My last journal entry.

Journal entry #4

So this is Rose’s last class, English. She told me about her “bipolar” teacher, I guess could agree. Things are pretty simple at the moment. The class is tame (which is again, mainly populated by girls). They are correcting and finishing their papers, while I read some more. I’ve gotten some great reading in today. Though not much writing time because I’m afraid kids will read my notes. Back to the book – My mom picked up a copy of “Burned” by Ellen Hopkins for me yesterday night and I’ve already devoured 350 pages. YAAYYYY!!

Once the bell rang I grabbed my things out of Rose’s locker and waited for her to show me back down to the office. I walked into the office to find my mother waiting for me.