A Perfect Mess

Its no mystery that I am a Jersey girl, through and through. Listen to my radio show or my podcast, and you can hear it. It's not just in what I talk about...my endless stories of show travels over bridges and tunnels to New York and Philadelphia...its also that I have the WORST North Jersey accent, and I can't hide it if I try. It gets worse if I have been drinking too. Hand me a copy of Weird NJ to read while I eat my taylor ham sandwich in an all night diner, and I couldn't be happier. I am fiercely defensive of my home state, and when someone does something great from our grounds, it's pride I can't even hope to properly describe. Obi Fernandez, man, you done good. My dear friend and fellow ska podcaster Randy from  Ska Crazy  got me into Westbound Train not that long ago. An amazing band from top to bottom, but my favorite aspect of the band was always the vocals. There was just so much soul in the way Obi Fernandez sings, and it set them apart from oth

New York City is a veritable cornucopia of music and culture. The music, the art, the people...it all radiates with an aura of gritty determination that won't wash off. It's unique energy permeates everything that bleeds from between it's concrete structures and dark clubs and bars. I am in love with New York City. I always will be. It's been a mecca of ska and punk music over the last bunch of decades, and my favorite place to escape New Jersey and run to for a recharge of my soul. Bands in New York have an energy that is almost tangible, and nearly impossible to describe. It varies band to band, scene to scene...but it's constant. Every time I get into a new one, I can detect it almost immediately. It's what gets me dancing immediately...be it sitting at my desk, driving in my car, doing my dishes, putting my radio show and podcast together, everything where the music is filling my ears. Thank fucking goodness for New York City. This is everything that fil