copyright brandon bondehagen 2009
The mix has begun. Our six songs that only days ago were ‘Good’ are now becoming ‘Great.’ Martin Feveyear, Jupiter’s owner and engineer extraordinaire, tweaked the myriad knobs on his 1980’s Solid State Logic analog console making the tunes strut out of the speakers, storm into your ears shaking every bit of your core, leaving nothing but warm satisfaction.
I’ve been playing music with these guys for almost a year now. On March 20, 21, we visited Jupiter Studios in Seattle, WA and recorded a six song ep. I took the footage from the session shot on Canon’s G9 & G10 and edited a little music video. Thanks William.
copyright brandon bondehagen 2008
It’s been awhile since I participated in some sweet debauchery. When I first moved to Portland, I picked up a copy of Chuck Palahniuk’s Fugitives & Refugees and absorbed some of the really important aspects of the local culture. Santacon, a festive spectacle motivating citizens to dress up like Jolly St. Nick and his cronies stopping by bars to slam back booze and slur “Hello Santa” to each other, was one aspect that I found quite intriguing. Last year I missed the event and suffered regret when a friend of mine sent me a spectacular photo of himself on the west bank of the Willamette river surrounded by a multitude of red and white. This year I motivated my girlfriend Teresa and I to partake in the festivites. With cameras in hands we hit the streets dressed in our holiday garb and santa beards which T made from white sparkly christmas tree skirt material. It’s funny how after a couple of drinks the holiday cheer can become quite addictive.
Trees. Four days in a Volkswagen ‘Eurovan’ traveling the state of Oregon will put you in contact with copious amounts of trees. In fact, over half of the state is comprised of forests* and the topography is draped with at least 30 different species**. As those facts mentally process, imagine you were sent on a journey to find five particular, individual, exceptional trees in that proverbial haystack of timber. Keep reading →
Portland, OR:
Last night I attended a delicious pot luck party where all eyes were glued to a massive television broadcasting CNN’s election coverage. I saw alot of things during several hours of party time: technological innovations like hologrammed people, tears, history, and confidence being rebuilt amongst the rubble of the last four years.
As I left the party, walking out into the crisp night, sounds of jubilation–cheers, honking of automobile horns– emanated from several blocks away. Before heading home, my curiosity drove me towards the cacophony.
Walking west on Hawthorne, the producers appeared en massed twofold: one on the corner in front of the Baghdad Theater; the other on the opposite side of the street. Every time the light would change and it was the crowd’s turn to cross at the crosswalk, like a amorphous cloud of dust, the hoardes would move in cheery unison high-fiving each other as they moved to the opposite sides of the street.
Horns honked. People smiled and laughed. The addictive excitement drew me in with several of my own traverses of the street.
When something like an election brings strangers together in harmony, that ubiquitous word HOPE really begins to mean well….
something.
photo: Copyright Todd Mecklem 2008
Music, whether you play it, watch it, or listen to it can get you places. It may get you into money. Maybe even love. Definitely trouble. This time around, it got me into three days of concerts in Portland, OR.
Mogwai: If stars were available for viewing at the Roseland, I would’ve gazed. The performance was just like listening to their recordings at a home or in a automobile except I had to stand up for over an hour.
Battles: John Stanier’s drumbeats set my blood on mathematical fire. During their set I felt like a genius: Organic chemistry and women made sense. I also single handedly defined absolute zero while calculating my finances for the rest of year. Its music for your brains. Go ahead and fire some electrodes already.
Sharpening Markers: What did you say that sexy lead singer’s name was?
Ratatat: Sweet riffage. Pulsating beats. Psychedelic visuals. Weird ass keyboard player haircut. The concert gave me a new appreciation for their music. The translation from recording to performing is a very important one and you look to the greats to understand that. When clean gets a little dirty and a little louder; that’s when I start paying attention.
Les Savy Fav: How do you write about the unpredictable? Imagine if you ran into a profusely sweaty Santa and he had shaved his head and was wearing nothing but his off-season red speedos and lumberjack boots. Suppose he was at that moment, the lead singer of a band and you were in the audience watching the show. Maybe he finds a painting ladder backstage, opens it, places it into the hands of the crowd and expects you and several others at the front of the stage to hold it upright while he ascends it and demands to be carried into the middle of the audience. I don’t know. Its just a thought.
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