At first, being unemployed was fun; I had lots of time to have fun times with friends, but then it was winter time and people had to work and who wants to go out in snow anyway? I got bored. Really fucking bored. When a smart person gets bored, watch out. Projects galore! I tried to crochet. I set up and abandoned a cooking blog. I had ideas for things I never did. Then I started reading things and listening to things and wanting to write full essays about them. I did, after all, dissect one song and write an entire blog post about it.
I discovered Puscifer's The Condition of My Parole this Spring and holy hell, did that make me want to do a whole goddamn journal-length article, track-by-track about how the songs borrow from American roots, oral tradition, bluegrass, and African American shout songs. Seriously. I listened in depth and pined for a companion CD I'd had in college to a compilation of African American literature so I could draw parallels. I almost dug out my American roots CD to do so. I had to restrain myself. Nonetheless, it's an amazing album. But then again, I'd buy anything Maynard James Keenan fronted, even if it was an album of him singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. His voice is pure sex. I'd fuck it if I could. cough
|Look at how awesome the cover art is!|
If you get a chance, watch the video for the title track on Youtube (make sure it's the extended edition). It's a hoot!
Puscifer is so different from Keenan's main band Tool that I was taken aback at first. I am a huge Tool fan. I actually formulated this post when I was driving to my parent's house today, Tool's Undertow album cranked. It's probably my favorite Tool album, and another that seems to have a somewhat Southern, swamp/bayou theme. Shit, one of the [awesome] songs is called "Swamp Song."
See? Without meaning to, I started to dig in. My point is, there's amazing music out there that begs to be discussed. Where some people may hear mindless noise, we can actually trace back to earlier musical elements, or, listening to lyrics, find great profundity where least expected. So excuse me, next time I start babbling about something I've heard. I get really excited.