A Perfect Mess

I think we all know that music in general is full of egos and people that take themselves way too seriously. No scene is immune. No genre is exempt. I'm not saying some people are not justified in their talents to have such an attitude and demeanor, because they are...but it's exhausting. Every so often though, it's nice to come across a band or an artist that has the talent but realizes that shit...life is short. Why you so serious, man? Enter Desmond Jones, a five piece funk-jazz-jam band rocking it's way from Grand Rapids, MI. This is that band for me lately. Have you folks gotten to give these gents a listen yet? If not, let me direct you on over to their website HERE and give yourself a treat. Listen to the new record and meet the band on their about page. The bio for these guys sings the praises of Batman, cured meats, and Stevie Wonder. Honestly, I read their snippets and I wanted them to be my best friends. I was privileged enough to get to review their

I admit I am very late to the party in regards to Dopapod. About four years ago, they played with Mother's Wine, who my husband played bass for, at the teeny tiny Stanhope House here in New Jersey. It was prior to getting my head out of my ass in regards to music and even then, I was impressed by what I saw. Did you ever see a band and think, "There is something to this and I don't know what it is." It was one of those moments. I never really forgot that show. The problem was that I just wasn't into it yet. I guess I wasn't ready yet to appreciate it. My mind was still too closed off. All that considered, I was still taken back by the sound and the groove that these gents put forth. Fast forward to Disc Jam this past June. I was there covering the festival for the blog and was going to again have a chance to whet my whistle with Dopapod goodness. Eric and I were at our campsite, not far from the stage, prepping shrimp tacos for my upcoming Beau Sasser int

So, what are YOU doing the weekend of August 11th? Yes, this August 11th. Next weekend. Whatever it is, stop right now. Cancel those plans immediately, and head over to  WILDWOODSFEST.COM  to get your tickets and plan your weekend in lovely Croydon, NH for the annual Wild Woods Music and Arts Festival. A Perfect Mess will be on hand to cover the festival, and this is one you do not want to miss this year. If I hear someone say the phrase "get down", I immediately think of Kung Fu. They have an incredible song called The Get Down with a chorus that says "I'm about to get down..." over and over. It's singable. It's addicting. This is ringing in my head right now thinking about Wild Woods. I DO feel like I am about to get down. A lot. Not only will we be seeing more Kung Fu (which if you haven't by now, you need to - there is no one like them doing what they do and they will knock your socks off - you can read more about them here ) but we also

My first Phish experience is not limited to my first time seeing Phish. I had lots of other firsts too. It was my first time in the Sky Bridge at Madison Square Garden, which was life changing. It was the first time I ever pre-booked my parking, which was also life changing although I still had to pay $5 more because my car is enormous. It was my first time hitting up American Beauty for a beer and a show. American Beauty is my kind of place. The beer is all very good. It's not easy to find a decent craft stout in the middle of the summer on tap anywhere, and they had one front and center on their chalk board. Yeah, the prices are a little high, but you do get a ticket to this enchanted land upstairs where a gentleman is busy making fresh thin crust pizzas all day. Not nasty frozen bar pies (not that those are not delicious when you are half in the bag) but real, fresh made in a real pizza oven pizzas that you can watch him make. You get one with every single beer you buy. He wa

Last night, I went and saw Phish. This is not going to be a real long and drawn out description from top to bottom because I have looked and those already exist all over the damn place. This is a straight truth piece about what happens when the outsider gets inside. Listen, I am losing punk rock points with every stroke of the keyboard on this article and I can already feel the side-eye from a lot of people I know in the ska scene. Before you all write me off as some lost cause or scene casualty or worse - not a true fan of either genre - let's actually talk about what it is to be a part of a Phish show. This will require you to remove your know-it-all hat and "I only listen to ___" glasses and actually, for a moment, trust that I have something of substance to say on this subject. I shared the exact same video you did on Facebook. You know the one, the "This is what Phish sounds like to people who don't like Phish" video. And it was funny! It's st

I'm new to the whole Phish thing. At no point in time did I ever think I would be headed to a Phish show during the Baker's Dozen run at Madison Square Garden. I was that person who made fun of Phish fans. Then I married into the jam scene and my world completely changed. It was gradual. My readers have been beaten over the head with the concept on more than one occasion but to me, honestly is key. I can't write honesty about music unless I tell you honestly how I came to find it. In this case, I had to have my music mind shaken upside down for a few years. Father's Day this year, I surprised my Phish Head husband with tickets. I had asked him, could he see any show during the run, which would he want to see? July 30th, he says. "Its a Sunday. You NEVER miss a Sunday Phish show." I still don't know what this means, but people keep saying it to me. I look forward to finding out. In addition, he wanted to check out the pre-party happening that day at A

I have a tendency to just just completely immerse myself in music that makes me feel. When I come across a sound that has pulled these varieties of feelings out of me, I just want to bathe myself in it until it has made its way into every pore in my body. When I started listening to Giant Panda Guerrilla Dub Squad a few months back, that is exactly what happened. I was so struck by the vibe in their sound. It's not typical. It doesn't feel faked. It's not brooding or overly positive either. It's just hopeful. I was borderline obsessed with how it made me feel. I wrote about it. Of course, then I start wondering how legit that sound is. There are more than a handful of bands peddling a positive sound that is completely artificial. I have fallen for it only to discover upon meeting the artist behind it that it's an act. As much as I get that concept, when it happens, I feel taken advantage of. The world right now is tumultuous and unsteady. Music is what some of us

Music is this amazing, incredible thing. It can be like a drug, finding you at your most vulnerable and getting inside you to permeate your very being with all that it is - creating this sense of self and presence of mind that you can no longer live without. It changes you. It can be that thing that gets you through the worst times of your life. It can be that thing that seems to narrate the best times of your life like a movie soundtrack. Those songs and those feelings will live in you forever, being reignited every time your hear them. Did you ever have that happen? The other day I was driving with my phone on shuffle and a song came on. It was Today by Jefferson Airplane. This song was such an emotional powerhouse to me as a 17 year old New Jersey girl in the summer, discovering myself and love and creation and everything that lights up the life of a teenager on the verge of adulthood. I played it all the time as I was somewhere between earthy hippy child and angsty punk rock gir

The festival concept was not one that I was ever familiar with on a personal level. Let me correct that - I was brought up in a home where we watched Woodstock as a family. My parents had gone to see it on a date when it was originally in the theaters and whenever PBS was doing a telethon and had it on, we would actually all sit down and watch it. I pretty much have the film memorized. My parents are the reason for my love (slight obsession) with folk music of that time. They named their dog after Arlo Guthrie who they still go see whenever he comes through New Jersey. This is my background. So for me, the idea of the music festival was always that. The ultimate festival. Woodstock. Then some greedy people stupidly tried to replicate it in the 90's and people set shit on fire and ruined it. I thought that was it. The modern era ruined this beautiful concept with commercialized violence and nonsense. Good job, guys. I had NO idea that there were still magical festivals happeni

As much as this last year has led me into so much delicious uncharted territory for me musically, there is something so comforting in heading back to what I know. Going and sitting down with the sounds who made me who I am. That is where I found myself this afternoon. I put on a record that was like curling up in a comfy chair with a warm blanket and a glass of wine. A little history: Back in 2012, I took off for Brooklyn to catch The Slackers annual Holiday Show at the Bell House. I was there on a wave of lemon cookies and Brooklyn Brewery beer with my friends in all things ska, Michelle and Chris. It was a good night for so many reasons. Good friends, laughing, getting in trouble for trying to leave Obi Fernandez's flyers everywhere (apparently, they frown on that), being as annoying as humanly possible in front of the stage until the Slackers gave in to my badgering and played Make Me Smile...my favorite song. The first time I ever heard it live. It was an unforgettable nig