Bitch Falcon (Rock)

This band from Dublin has been on my radar for some time. So long, that I have no recollection of how I came across them. I was perusing my list of bands and listening to a few of them when I came upon the song, Syncope.  I am infatuated with this angry sounding beautiful tune. It has twenty years of rock mashed up into a few minutes with enough newness to leave me questioning influences with this band.

Then I ventured to the second video posted and remembered seeing this video before. One doesn’t forget the disturbing view that the video accompanying the song, TMJ. It brings to my mind how I attempt to cover my negative feelings as to not bring others down to my own quagmire of misery. I’m full of gratitude that I tend much more to be up or down no matter the company present than I once did. I have found that not trying to change others from their varying moods has, in turn, taught me how to give this freedom to myself. Either side of the Golden Mean seems mostly to depend on expectations or being comfortable or uncomfortable with the known versus the unknown for me. It has been a great part of my maturity to see for myself how this works within me. When I have no expectations and experience something very good it is such a pleasurable experience. I think the element of throwing surprise parties for friends and family show that we all understand how pleasurable unexpected pleasant experiences are to us. On the flip side, when we lose someone or something that is completely unexpected, the pain is so shocking for there is no prep for acceptance of the loss. It can destroy us. Sorry for going off course, but what comes, comes and take it or puke it as you will. This band rocks and is working on new music to be released, which I plan to follow up on for my own pleasure. I do hope you enjoy and appreciate these creations as I am.

Links to the band.





Here’s to the crazy ones.
The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see things differently.
They’re not fond of rules.
And they have no respect for the status quo.
You can praise them, disagree with them,
quote them, disbelieve them, glorify or
vilify them.
About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They invent. They create. They inspire.
They push the human race forward.
Maybe they have to be crazy.
How else can you stare at an empty canvas
and see a work of art?
Or sit in silence and hear a song that’s never
been written?
Or gaze at a red planet and see a laboratory on wheels?
While some may see them as the crazy ones,
We see genius.
Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world,
Are the ones who do. ~ Jack Kerouac

Aloke (Alternative Post Grunge)

The sounds coming from Aloke’s “Alive” album released in the summer of last year were produced by Steve Albini around 8 years ago. I have been listening to cuts from this album since around August, and when a tune from it comes up through shuffle, it always puts a smile on my ears for the tunes always having a fresh feel to them. I found it hard to try and stuff these sounds into a particular genre. This just fucking rocks my bones. How shit this good can not catch the sails of mass appeal befuddles my sense of popular artistic sensibility. The Sirens from the powerful corporate island of rare risks taken rules the lazy ears of the easily fooled and distracted lemming eared masses. Aloke is an example of an Orpheus not allowing my tender ears to be baited into artistic deafness procured by the masters of artistical wages. For me, the wages of art is misery, but the gift of creation is internal contented peace with which no word or glance can with reason portray. Aloke gets me there.

Here are some links about the band and to connect with Aloke.

Nice article/interview here





This tune is one of my favorites. The lyrics concur with my own having to face my ego and understand it’s folly and inescapable necessity. Just an epic tune for me.

“I realized these were all the snapshots which our children would look at someday with wonder, thinking their parents had lived smooth, well-ordered lives and got up in the morning to walk proudly on the sidewalks of life, never dreaming the raggedy madness and riot of our actual lives, our actual night, the hell of it, the senseless emptiness.”
― Jack Kerouac