Friday, September 17, 2010

Oh... hey there! It's been so long I barely recognized you! You look great though. Really, you do.

Which is to say, I've been away for a couple of months.

Like so many other things I intend to do with consistency - exercise, eat right, read the Bible - my blogging has joined the ranks of the neglected.

The good news, however, is that I haven't stopped writing altogether. In fact, what initially kept me away from the blog was a great writing assignment that fell into my lap.

Paul Rosevear - singer and rhythm guitarist of NJ pop/rockers Readymade Breakup - asked me if I was interested in writing some liner notes for their forthcoming third album. I was stoked. And rather than tell you all the reasons why I was stoked, I will take this opportunity to publish these notes here at Smashing The Block. In the following few paragraphs, you will see all of the reasons why I love this band and why I am especially excited for their new LP.

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Readymade Breakup Make a Strong Case for Staying Together


Their name isn't merely a jaded poke at the challenge of modern romance. "Readymade Breakup" is a knowing jab at the delicate core of every human partnership - be it romantic, business, or artistic in nature. They all boil down to relationships. And when it comes to making music, the odds of continued fidelity are tough. A traditional marriage is easy in comparison. With a band, however, you have multiple sets of egos, expectations, and mood swings. Then, of course, you have to make music. But Readymade Breakup is making good on the bonds of rock and roll matrimony. With the release of their third LP, they deliver a striking set of expertly-crafted pop/rock nuggets that sound like the honeymoon period is only just beginning.


If LP3 is your personal introduction to the band, you arrived just in time. Turn up the volume. What you are about to enjoy is a truly great album in the classic tradition. It's not randomly-sequenced collection of songs. Rather, it is a cohesive work of audio art. It has a beginning, a middle, and an end. And it's jam-packed with just about all the thrills and chills you could ask from a rock band. It glimmers and glows with anthemic choruses, stacked harmonies, delicious guitar tones, and masterful lyrics - the whole of it galvanized with inspired melodies. Clocking in at just over 30 minutes, it demands repeated listens.


A great album such as this is no small feat. It represents a victory over a nearly impossible set of cosmic challenges - the first of which is putting together a great band. Readymade Breakup fits the bill.


Singer/guitarist Paul Rosevear and bassist/singer Gay Elvis have been playing together in different bands for nearly a decade. Rosevear's raspy and emotive baritone together with G.E.'s acrobatic bass lines have always hinted at something big. But when they rounded out the lineup of RMBU with drummer Spicy O'Neil and guitarist/singer Jim Fitzgerald, the four of them unlocked a chemistry that has been knocking audiences over ever since.


Spicy's drumming - fast, loose and always in-the-pocket - is a perfect foil to G.E.'s three-dimensional approach to low end, making them a rhythm section to be reckoned with. Whether it's the sultry, down-home groove of "Something to Believe In" or the rolling, percussive intro to "Waiting For You," they always come together in a stunning way.


But just about every great rock band can be identified by its lead guitarist, and Fitzgerald is exactly the type of dynamic, original and stylish player that most bands can only dream about. He doesn't crowd the band's sound. Rather, he helps define it, using an arsenal of impeccable tones to create a uniquely textured wall of sound for each song. The album abounds with gorgeous solos, shimmering atmoshperics, and an expertly-crafted crunch that pulls the listener deep into the sonic experience.


At the helm of this ship, however, you will find Rosevear delivering one commanding performance after another, covering a range of emotions, and selling each one perfectly. When he sings "we can survive this pain together" in the chorus of "Waiting For You," you feel that hope with him. When he repeatedly howls "you're not alone" during the stirring final moments of "Bravest Smile," you believe it. And on the album's most delicate track, "Not Through With You Yet," he becomes the voice of a common ambivalence about God. He quietly reflects on his confused and jaded state, before whispering the refrain, "it don't matter what I said / I'm not through with you yet." We can relate to him. Like so many of us, he leaves that door open a crack. He manages to make this sort of connection with the listener in every song.


Having honed his songcraft over several years and several bands, Rosevear stunned audiences earlier this year with the release of his debut solo EP "Broken-Nosed Poetry." This five-song gem featured his strongest material to date - an affecting acoustic collection of sepia-toned portraits, capturing the feel of longing hearts, highways and rainy days. But with LP3, Rosevear tops himself yet again, tapping the full potential of Readymade Breakup and presenting a set of wide-angle stereo blockbusters in vivid contrast and color.

But even when a band like RMBU beats the odds and comes to the studio with chemistry and songs, capturing it on record often proves exceedingly difficult. The right producer and engineer is critical. This time around, the band chose to work with Steve Evetts, whose many credits include artists ranging from the Dillinger Escape Plan to the Cure. But here, perhaps the most significant record in Evetts discography is an 2002(?) ep called "New Tattoo" by the Blakes - a band that featured both Rosevear and Elvis. Sonically speaking, "New Tattoo" remains a vibrant, sexy and essential recording to anyone who has had the pleasure of hearing it. In many ways, it was the zenith of the Rosevear/Elvis catalogue. Until now.


From the first measures of album-opener "Inside All Along," O'Neil and Fitzgerald roll in heavy and steady like a freight train, clearing the way for Elvis' bass to drop in like machine gun fire, leading directly into a fantastic groove firmly planted under Rosevear's first verse. Building to a taught pre-chorus in gang harmony, the tune quickly explodes into a giant chorus that sets the tone for the rest of the record's nine songs.

It would seem the chemistry Rosevear and Elvis forged with Evetts during those earlier sessions must have lit up the entire studio this time around. Whatever atmosphere they created, it allowed Evetts' to pull monumental performances from everyone in the band. The result is an album positively dripping with an infectious energy that comes through the speakers every time. You will play air guitar, air drums and yes - most certainly - air bass. You will sing along. And you'll smile and feel a certain cool satisfaction in knowing Readymade Breakup.


As listeners, we can only hope that they stay together for a long time.


-Jason Kundrath
Smashing The Block, Summer 2010

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Practicing for the Funeral.























It's about 3 o'clock in the afternoon on a Thursday. Today is my "Saturday" - the first day of my retail weekend. And so far it's been pretty standard.

I stayed in bed longer than I should have. I then proceeded to remain in my underwear for longer than I wanted to. I aimlessly surfed the web, checking facebook a million times, and hitting my usual favorites in an orderly cycle. Watched Big Boi's performance on Jay Leno. Read an article someone posted I found mildly interesting. Watched another damned movie trailer. The usual, pointless routine.

But today is different. Today is the eve of Hero Pattern's farewell performance, the official end to a long and amazing chapter in my life.

The truth of it - the unfiltered, unedited reality of it - is that I'm angry. I'm disappointed. And I'm beyond looking for a target. That makes it harder. The blame game is a useless exercise, for sure. But when you're playing it, it's a welcome distraction from the facts. And the fact is that Hero Pattern can't go on.

As I write this, I'm listening to unreleased Hero Pattern demos. And DAMN are they good. So damn good it breaks my heart. Pulverizes it. Crying a little now.

Dear reader, allow me this. I never really mourned the end. I'm not sure how to do it properly.

For those of you who haven't experienced the highs and lows of being in a band, I'll try to distill the essence for you into a paragraph:

It's a something of a marriage between four people. In order for it to work, you must be deeply committed to one another. There are no immediate tax benefits. And you generally invest and almost invariably lose boatloads of personal capital. You get to deal with everyone's insecurities and ego-defenses until everything is laid completely bare, warts and all. At that point, it comes down to the music. If - as in the case of Hero Pattern - you are creating music that you love - you'll find a way to look past the negatives (or at least joke about them) and push onward for the love of it all. When you have a great practice, or write an excellent song, or put on a killer show, that's the sex of it. That's the victory. When the people around you let you down, or when things don't work out as planned, well that strengthens your bonds together down in the trenches. It's you - a band of brothers - against the world.

But life gets in the way. Priorities change. And when the disappointments start coming from within your camp, what can you do? Keep banging your head against the same walls? Keep stabbing yourself in the heart forever?

Truly, the high stakes of being in a band, the subconscious pressure that runs through the experience, goes way beyond the financial investment. It's the investment of TIME that has the most significant value. When we officially formed, I was 21 years old. I am now 30 and getting older every second. Adios, my twenties! For the most part, it was great, great fun.

Getting back together with the band to rehearse for this farewell performance has been emotional. The experience has been as comfortable as putting on an old pair of jeans. They still make me look good. I can honestly say that we sound better than we ever did. But there are reasons I had to stop wearing these jeans, and those reasons remain.

There is a lot more I could say. But I think I'm done for now. Thanks to all of you - friends, family and fans - who have shown us love over the years. I'm looking forward to tonight's rehearsal, even if it is our last. And I'm looking forward to the show.

As our former manager Kristin suggested to me, perhaps this will provide some emotional closure on the subject and allow us to move on to the next chapter.

I am counting on that.

Saturday, June 26, 2010

Problems.

We all have problems.

Some of us dwell on them. Some of us obsess over them and lose perspective.

Personally speaking, I've been doing a lot of self-examination these days. I've been reviewing the pages of my life to this point, and trying to pinpoint where I may have missed a turn.

It may sound a little ungrateful, considering all of the great gifts I have. And in some respects it is just that.

But I have this nagging feeling in my gut. It's a feeling of unrest. It's a feeling of dissatisfaction. So I'm back to the drawing board to reevaluate my position and formulate a plan of action.

On my way home from work this evening, however, a radio news story snapped me out of my self-obsessed stupor and put things into perspective.

Reportedly, a man was taking a picture of his wife and six-month-old daughter at the Central Park Zoo earlier today when a tree branch fell onto them, killing his daughter and critically injuring his wife.

I cannot imagine the devastation this man must be feeling at this moment.

I said a prayer for the him and the survival of his wife. I hope you all will, too.

Surely, many of us have legitimate problems. And this blog will continue occasionally to be a vehicle for my own self-important whining and complaining.

But I sincerely encourage you all to count your blessings today and every day.


Friday, June 11, 2010

One Wild Night in Suburbia

Last night was crazy. Bonkers. Bananas.

I made some new friends, and we went bar hopping. I got pretty severely wasted. Drugs were involved.

We went to a strip club. And I had sex in a bathroom with some beautiful British blonde I had just met. It was kind of hot. But mostly awkward and funny.

I had lots of other adventures, too. And my wife was sitting next to me the entire time. And the whole experience only cost us $27 at the Garden State Plaza AMC Theater.

In other words, we saw Get Him To the Greek last night. It is and R-rated, raucous romp that delivers big laughs and plenty of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.

The film follows the young, earnest record label employee Aaron Greenberg (the lovable tub Jonah Hill) who shows up to work one day to find he has been charged with the task of fetching his idol, British rocker Aldous Snow (the brilliant Russell Brand) from London and getting him back to the Greek Theater in L.A. for a massive concert performance.

But before he takes off for London, however, we are given a few glimpses into Greenberg's relationship with his live-in girlfriend Daphne (Elisabeth Moss), and it's mostly sexless and a little bit sad. She is a doctor who works opposite hours and is climbing into bed in her dirty scrubs when he goes off to work. When they have a few hours to spend together, she is just dying to watch Gossip Girl. He suggests they go see the Mars Volta. She doesn't know who they are. Etc., etc.

When he visits her hospital to excitedly tell her about his impending flight to London, she also has some news. She is waiting on a residency at a great hospital in Seattle. "There's lots of great music stuff in Seattle," she reassures him. "Nirvana!... Nirvana came from Seattle, right?" This leads to some hysterical dialogue and, of course, a fight that ends with the two of them taking a break. This is the perfect set up to his intercontinental descent into debauchery.

Russell Brand is totally believable as a drug-addled, obnoxious, hyper-sexual, magnetic rockstar. This is because he is all of these things. In reality, he is currently sober, but he has been addicted to heroin. And though he's now engaged to Katy Perry, he boasts of having bedded thousands. And while he's not a household name in America yet, this movie could change that.

As the battery of the film, Brand's performance is captivating, riotous and quite deep in places. Aldous is the psychological center of the film: a rockstar given to excess, struggling with the possibility his best days are behind him, surrounded by people but perpetually lonely. The audience stands with Greenberg as he struggles to contain this force of nature. As he gives into Aldous' charms, so do we. And thanks to the miracle of movies, we don't have to experience the painful hangovers, or the puke on our lapel.

Things do dip into semi-serious territory in the third act with mixed results, but throughout it all, the chemistry between Hill and Brand never loses steam, making this another winning Apatow production.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Previews of Coming Attractions.


Today's entry will be short and somewhat scattered.

Rather than write a complete, coherent post, I will use the short time I have to give you a list of topics I plan to cover over the next few weeks.

Why I Love and Loathe the Damned Wonderful Internet.

Caffeine: America's Publicly Celebrated Drug Addiction and How It Nearly Ruined Me.

Hero Pattern: Making Peace With the Past.

How To Lose Friends and Alienate People or the Prodigious Power of Passive Aggression

Confessions of a Chronically Late Idiot.

...

and speaking of that... I have to stop now and get to work.

-jason

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Reunion Fever

Over the next several weeks, my social schedule includes two significant reunions. They are both "once-in-a-lifetime" events. And while I haven't been stressing about either of them, I figure I can at least begin over- analyzing. This may naturally lead to stress.

The first event is my high school reunion. Not my five-year. Not my ten. It's actually my twelve-year high school reunion. Why twelve years, you ask? There are several reasons, but it really boils down to my best friend.

He was our senior class president, and it is typically the president's responsibility to organize these events. As president, he was a true maverick. He did things his own way, with a potent mix of ambition and disregard for the school's values and traditions.

When he graduated, he made it clear to me he had very little interest in the idea of a reunion. We often joked we would never have one. As it turned out, it wasn't until the five and ten-year mark passed that some friends from our graduating class strong-armed him into making this happen.

But twelve years feels good. Honestly, what's the point of a five-year reunion anyway? At this point, you're likely to still be in touch with the people you care about. And unless you have absolutely no interests or hobbies, you're probably not thumbing through your barely-old yearbook, saying things like, "Ooooh! I wonder what (INSERT RANDOM CLASSMATE YOU NEVER SPOKE TO HERE) is up to these days. I wonder what he/she looks like now!" Um, no.

Ten year reunion? Overdone. Too predictable. But when the plan for this reunion started to take shape, I was surprised at my own reaction. It seems that just the right amount of time has passed to allow for some genuine excitement at the prospect of seeing some of my old classmates in person. And not just my friends. But even the casual acquaintances. Hopefully they all turned out alright.

But a twelve year reunion means something else as well. It means most of us have hit 30 years old. And that number... that scary, little reminder of our mortality... well, it's something we have in common now.

The only problem is my best friend asked me to MC this event with him. I agreed. And I have little to no idea of what that entails. So the stress begins.

The second of the aforementioned two reunions is a reunion of my former band Hero Pattern. This event deserves its own entry when I have more time to get my thoughts about it in order. But the details are as follows:

Friday, July 9th.
@Maxwell's in Hoboken

It is a benefit for a friend of ours named Dan Duggins. He recently suffered a stroke and became completely paralyzed. He has no health insurance. Please come out and help us raise some money for his care and recovery.

- jason

Monday, June 7, 2010

Fly Away, J-Bird


As some people know, I am a retail manager. The psychological reverberations of that fact will likely inspire at least a few entries on this blog. But for the moment, I can focus on the good of it. I managed a fantastic crew and worked shoulder to shoulder with some extremely talented managers. The store becomes a second home. And you get a house full of brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, misfits and weirdos.

Then you get the news you're being transfered to another store. Then you get some heartfelt goodbyes and well-wishes. And lastly, you get a delicious chocolate cake.

Today I start at the new store. This is my tiny universe.

Meanwhile, oil continues to gush into the gulf coast. The Middle East maintains its status quo of hopelessness. North Korea is threatening war if the UN delivers sanctions. Political unrest continues in Thailand. And so on and so forth. But I cannot obsess about these issues. I am having enough trouble managing the relatively mundane details of my own life.

I have to get ready for work.

*Extra special thanks to Lauren for the cake and the lovely photo of it.